Heart of Gold
by Sweet Avidya Jones
Summary: Yes, I wrote a prostitute/client Kataang AU on Tumblr. No, I am not sorry.
1. Introductions

The sex was fantastic.

It was energetic and fun, even a little aggressive which was her preference, if she was being honest.

After a long week, he was an interesting surprise. She'd been told to expect someone "a little unorthodox" and still she was thrown. He was tall and wore a tailored, charcoal gray suit that matched his eyes. His head was shaved down to dark stubble. On anyone else it might have looked severe but it suited him.

The hotel was expensive and the staff was discreet. It was her preference for these liaisons. The penthouse looked out over Republic City, which was beautiful in the evening. Under the setting sun, the lights stretched out toward the horizon and the expanse of the purple sky.

He'd introduced himself - Aang - and she wondered if he was using a pseudonym. A lot of them did. His hands were strong and gentle and each time he took off an article of her clothing, he explored the newly exposed skin with his fingertips. He was so beguiling and it felt so good, she forgot herself a little and in short order, she was standing in front of him in her underwear. All he'd done was remove his tie.

He was athletic and beautifully built. He was a swimmer, maybe, or ran marathons. Apart from looking impressive, there was something intuitive about the way he responded to her physically, the way he read her body, and she couldn't place what it's source might be. He smiled easily and it was disarming how genuine it always seemed.

Sweet. That was the best way to describe him.

Bringing commerce into sex made it a very goal-driven activity. When there was an hourly rate involved, it often felt perfunctory and shallow. But he never rushed. Whenever she expected him to move harder or faster, he retreated instead, drawing it out, slowing down, touching her even more gently.

She sat in bed with him after, studying his tattoos and making idle conversation, still wanting him and wondering if it would be imposing to ask if he could go again. He looked a little younger than her, in his mid twenties. He probably wouldn't need long.

"Do you want a cocktail?" he asked, pointing vaguely toward the bar.

"I don't really drink," she replied.

"Yeah, me neither." He leaned over the edge of the bed for his pants and she expected him to get up and get dressed, to leave. Instead, he fished through the pockets and produced a slim cigarette case and a silver lighter. The lighter had an elaborate letter A engraved on it. A post-coital smoke with a hooker was so cliché, she was almost disappointed in him.

"Do you want to smoke a joint?" he asked.

She cocked an eyebrow in surprise and he shrugged.

"You said you had a rough week."

"Did I?" she marveled. She'd certainly thought it but couldn't remember saying it aloud.

"Might help you relax," he offered, "And I don't have anywhere else to be."

They smoked and chatted. She found herself venting about work - as best she could without disclosing any information about her clients. He watched her without speaking, his warm grey eyes on her, laying back against the pillows. She opened up to him in a way she usually avoided but felt unable to stop herself. He was so easy to talk to. She told him how hard it was to connect with people when she was so consumed with her work. Sometimes she thought it didn't matter how rewarding she found it if there was so little left over.

They had sex again, this time slow and languid. She gasped his name when she came and turned her face away to hide the fact that she was blushing.

As he got dressed, her phone rang from where she'd left it atop her briefcase. She sighed and sent it to voicemail.

"Just once I'd like to go an entire weekend without having to talk about environmental law," she grumbled, pulling the covers up over her chest.

He chuckled as he knotted his tie in front of the mirror, "Sounds like you're in high demand."

She could hear his phone buzz in his pocket and nodded toward it.

"You, too." There was a moment of silence between them before she said, "I want to see you again."

He grinned and pulled his phone out, scrolling casually through his calendar with his thumb.

"Next Friday? I'm pretty open so I'm yours right after you finish work if you want." He seemed to consider something for a moment. "We could do an overnight, get brunch in the morning?"

"That sounds excellent," she sighed, "It'll give me something to look forward to next week when I'm getting screamed at by Judge Chan."

"Great." He took a card from his breast pocket and crossed the room to hand it to her. It was bone white and read simply 'Aang' and 'Republic City'. His mobile number was on the back.

"Call me next week to confirm. I let clients come to my place sometimes." He gestured to the room around them, "It's a little more intimate than this if you're interested."

Katara had never given an escort such an obscene tip.


	2. Workshop

Sunlight spilled in through the windows of the workshop above Aang's garage.

It was after noon, and Toph had spent the morning painstakingly beating a series of flat, metal ovals into shallow dishes with the aid of a mallet and an anvil. She was taking a break to sort them into piles by size (and nurse her fingers) and was now further sidetracked, sitting on the floor with a bong between her bare feet. Aang sat across from her, legs folded, chin in his hand. She breathed out a lungful of smoke and held the lighter out in his direction.

"Do you want to hit this thing again?" she asked. He shook his head and sat up, yawning and stretching.

"No, I have a client coming over in a couple of hours."

"Must be someone new if you need to be sober."

He leaned back against the workbench, "Yeah, I've only seen her once before."

Toph's eyebrows arched in surprise, "Is she old?"

Aang laughed a little, "She's our age. A couple of years older than me, I think. Pretty. I like her."

"What's her problem?" Toph asked, flicking the lighter to life again.

"Work. She's literally free like, one night a week." He took his phone from his pocket to check the time, "Do you want me to order a pizza?"

She shook her head and exhaled again, coughing a little, "My mom is picking me up soon."

He frowned, "What for?"

"She's taking me to dinner. Why do you think I'm getting obliterated in the middle of the day? She wants to talk about my next show. I don't know why I ever thought letting her invest in the gallery was a good idea." She stretched her legs out and lay back on the floor, arms limp at her sides.

"What does this chick do for a living that she's so busy?"

He scratched his head, "She's a lawyer. She's a partner at the firm she works for. Her phone is ringing constantly."

Her brow furrowed and she frowned, "I thought you didn't bring clients here until you'd already been seeing them a while."

"I told you, I like her."

"Seems risky," she muttered.

Aang smiled, "Are you worried about me? It'll be fine."

"That's what they all say before the sting operation is revealed," Toph sighed theatrically. She reached out to pat his leg, "I'll come visit you in jail. You'll do well there."

He chuckled, "If she's a cop she's the worst one I've ever seen. She was so uptight the first time I worked with her I finally got her stoned to loosen her up."

"Can we please not discuss the relative tightness or looseness of your clients?"

Aang rolled his eyes. Toph's phone vibrated in her pocket, the sound amplified against the floor. She groaned.

"Is my mom out front?"

He stood to peer out the window, "Looks like it."

"Damn." She stood as well, brushing off her sweatpants and crossing the room to where her sandals and cane lay on the floor. Aang followed her out the door and down the stairs into the yard.

"Hi, Mrs. Beifong," he called as Toph's mother exited her car.

She smiled as they approached. She was taller than Toph and always looked like she'd stepped out of a catalog, perpetually outfitted in cardigans and pearl earrings.

"Aang, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. Toph always insists on taking a taxi when she comes here. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. Keeping busy."

"Remind me what it is you're doing these days?" the older woman asked.

"Mom," Toph said as she opened the passenger door of the car, "I've told you a dozen times he's a _male prostitute._ "

"For heaven's sake, Toph," Mrs. Beifong scoffed, rolling her eyes, "You're awful. You're a massage therapist," she said, having just remembered, "How is that going?"

"Pretty well. I'm enjoying it."

"I saw the Director of the Republic City Ballet at a fundraiser last week. What's her name…Yangchen. She asked about you."

Aang smiled but it was a little strained, "Did she? If you see her again, please tell her I said hello."

"I'll do that, dear." She got back into the car and Toph offered a vague wave in Aang's direction before joining her.

"See you later, Twinkletoes," Toph called as they pulled away.


	3. Second Appointment

She was early.

Worried about getting lost – his address was on the outskirts of the city – and perhaps a little overeager, she arrived half an hour before she was supposed to. His house was at the end of a street in a quiet neighborhood full of mature trees and people walking their dogs. It was not what she expected.

She sat in her car, tapping her foot nervously and wondering what she should do. Sit out here and wait? Drive around for a while? She glanced at her watch and realized she'd already been parked in front of his house for five minutes. Maybe he'd already seen her sitting out here like a weirdo. She had been distracted and irritable all day and had practically bolted out the door at 4:30 when her last conference call ended.

She got out of the car.

Katara rang the bell and threw a furtive glance around. She was still dressed for work in a dark blue suit and carrying a bag. It probably looked like she was about to serve him papers. The lot was heavily wooded for a residential area and had a privacy fence. She could barely see the houses on either side.

There was the sound of footsteps inside and the deadbolt scraped. Aang opened the door and smiled when he saw it was her. She opened the storm door and realized he was shirtless. He was wearing orange athletic shorts and had a towel thrown over his shoulder. She hesitated on the porch.

"Sorry. I know I'm early."

He chuckled, "It's fine."

"Did…am I interrupting something?"

He waved away her question, "Just yoga. Come in." He stepped back to allow her inside and closed the door behind her.

The house was small but warm, with hardwood floors and minimalist furniture. It smelled faintly of sandalwood. Aang stepped past her and crouched to roll up his yoga mat.

"Give me a second and I'll put this away. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks."

He left the room and she heard him go up a set of stairs out of sight. There was the sound of water running. She took a few steps further into the living room.

There was no television that she could see. Instead, the focal point of the living room was a large sculpture, about as tall as he was. It was a slender concrete pillar and coiling up and around from the base to the top were probably hundreds of narrow, flat metal strips. They had pointed ends and were layered like feathers in a continuous spiral. The light reflecting off of the metal gave a sense of movement to it, as if it were slowly rotating. Aang returned, pulling on a t shirt. He followed her gaze and brightened when he realized what she was admiring.

"This is beautiful," Katara said softly. She looked down at the base, to a tiny metal plaque that read simply 'sculpture no. 8'.

"Yeah, this is my favorite piece in the house." He folded his arms across his chest, "A friend of mine made it."

"This is by a local artist?"

Aang nodded, "Her name is Toph Beifong."

"Beifong? _The_ Beifongs?"

He chuckled and ran his hand over his head, his smile almost bashful, "She hates that reaction. If you keep coming over you might meet her eventually. She's here a lot."

"Is she a client? Sorry, that's a rude question."

He shook his head, "No, we've known each other for a long time, since we were in junior high. I was the only person she liked because I didn't coddle her." Katara's brows furrowed quizzically and he explained, "She's blind."

Katara turned back to the sculpture, impressed. Aang pointed at her.

" _That's_ the reaction she generally prefers. Can I get you some coffee?"

"That would be great." She followed him through to the kitchen and sat at the table while he busied himself with the espresso machine on the counter. The table was larger than she would have expected and looked old, the surface clean and polished but marred with gouges and scuffs. It seemed a little out of place in the context of the rest of the house.

"Do your neighbors know what you do?" she asked.

He glanced at her and grinned, "Are you worried?"

She shrugged, "Not really. Just curious."

"They think I'm a massage therapist," he said, "I'm actually licensed so it's not strictly a lie."

"And the fact that it's only women coming over here doesn't strike them as odd?"

"It's not only women," he said simply. He laughed at her surprised expression, "I work in trade with the trainers at my jiu jitsu gym so I actually do massage work for them. Their joints are always screwed up. I can take a look at your back if you want."

"How did you know I have problems with my back?" she asked. He set a cup in front of her and retrieved cream from the fridge.

"You work in an office and you wear high heels, it was a lucky guess. Do you want to take that upstairs? I can set up my table." he offered.

xXXx

"I'm surprised you're not just doing this for a living," Katara said, an appreciative groan in her voice.

She lay on her stomach, naked to the waist, while he worked out a knot in her back with his elbow.

"It's not as fun," he said, "And it doesn't pay as well, frankly." He explored the area he'd just been working on with his fingertips, "Your back is a mess," he said.

"I know," she muttered, "I should start wearing more sensible shoes."

"You should but I think the larger issue is tension. I could spend another half hour just on your back but your shoulders and neck are almost as bad." He ran his thumbs up the sides of her spine, "When was the last time you went on vacation?"

She answered with a derisive scoff, "I can't even remember. It was a couple of years ago, probably."

He sighed and let his hand rest on the small of her back, "I think if I do any more you're going to be miserable in a day."

"Is this the part where you offer to do the front?" she asked hopefully, a mischievous smile on her face.

"No happy endings in this house," he said, laughter in his voice, "Those are separate jobs." She rolled onto her side, pouting theatrically, and he offered his hand to help her sit up. She turned and let her legs hang over the side of the table, holding the towel she'd been laying on against her chest. He moved closer so that he was standing between her legs, her knees against his hips. He laid his hands on her thighs and she sighed, glancing down.

"I suppose I could have taken my pants off, too," she mused.

"But then I wouldn't get to do it," he replied, his voice low. She looked away and then back again. "Are you blushing?" he asked.

She fought to keep the smile off of her face, pinching her lips together defiantly, corners of her mouth still quirking up. Reaching back, she pulled the pins from her hair, shaking it down around her shoulders, and something like surprise flickered across his face. Katara leaned forward and kissed him, taking hold of his shirt to pull him closer, her fingernails scraping his ribs through the fabric. Aang pulled the towel gently away, dropping it on the floor.

He took his time once they were in bed, the same way he had the first time he undressed her. There was a certain amount of repetition, touching her one way, then another, then again, observing her reactions. When they could be, his eyes were on her face more than the rest of her body. Her pants were in a forgotten heap on the floor and she lay on her back, his weight pressed between her legs. He'd moved from her neck to her breasts, touching her gently with his fingertips and then testing with his lips, his tongue. Every time she was about to urge him to continue he would move on, leaving her wanting, and she realized almost immediately that this was on purpose. He'd trailed his way down to her stomach and when his hand slid underneath her backside she realized where his trajectory was leading and caught his upper arm in her hand. He stopped and looked up at her, eyebrow arched in an unspoken question.

"Sorry, um…" she licked her lips. Hesitant and embarrassed, she repeated herself, "Sorry. I don't usually let escorts go down on me, actually."

He propped himself up on his elbows over her, "Didn't you tell me your sex life is primarily with escorts right now?"

"Yes."

"Then who _is_ doing this for you? Because somebody should be. You can't do it to yourself."

She laughed and bit her lip, shaking her head, "I suppose not." Sounding relieved, she added, "Is it weird that I was worried you would be offended?"

He grinned up at her and kissed her stomach, "It's fine if you're really not interested. Obviously, it's your time and I'll do whatever you want. But if this is something you're usually into and you're going to break your rule for someone I think I'm a pretty good choice."

"Oh _really_?" she scoffed, "Because of your prodigious talent?"

"There's that. There's also the question of enthusiasm."

She rolled her eyes but was still smiling, "Forgive me if I'm not swayed when your level of enthusiasm is directly tied to my checkbook."

He rose onto his hands and knees and leaned down over her to whisper in her ear. "Come on, Katara." He sounded almost scolding. His lips brushed her cheek and he pushed himself back up so that they could look each other in the eyes.

"I could take your money just as easily in a hotel room." He shrugged, "I think we have good chemistry and I want you," he said simply, "It's a nice change of pace for me not to have to fake that."

Her face grew hot and she ran her fingers down his arms to avoid looking at him for a moment.

"You're a problem," she murmured, shooting a playful glare in his direction.

"Why?"

"You're too charming." She bent her knee to press her thigh between his legs and he grinned, "And your self-control is too good. How can I ever be expected to have the upper hand?"

He didn't reply, but instead kissed her shoulder, her collarbone. With languid slowness, he pressed his lips to her sternum and then murmured against her skin, "Tell me what to do."

"Go ahead," she drawled. She adjusted the pillows under herself and laid back, "It seems a shame not to take advantage of your full skill set."

"Excellent."


	4. Merger

The bar of the Republic City Plaza hotel was bustling when Katara entered.

The paperwork was signed, the meetings were over for now. The merger had been consuming her life for the past few weeks and finally, after tonight, she could get back to her real work. She was late for what was supposed to be an hour of drinks and casual conversation with these people who were now officially her associates. But after so much time in conference rooms and on the phone with them, she'd dawdled in getting out the door. She wasn't particularly interested in socializing. This final push of meetings had been especially hectic and meant she had not had a chance to see Aang the previous weekend. It was Thursday night and her schedule was so up in the air she had not managed to schedule time with him for the coming weekend, either.

She'd been seeing him for nearly two months now, mostly on weekends but sometimes in the middle of the week as well when she could manage it. They flirted over texts, and Katara found herself saying things she would have been too self conscious too say out loud. It surprised her how quickly he usually responded, how direct he was about his interest in her. She spent the night at his house whenever she could justify it. They would get takeout from the hole in the wall noodle shop near his house and eat in bed, lounging around in their underwear, talking and joking. She would fall asleep curled against him and slept heavily, left ridiculous amounts of money in envelopes on his nightstand.

Seeing him in the bar was unexpected; talking to someone she knew even more so. She felt a thrill of excitement but there was an undercurrent of anxiety, the feeling that she was about to be caught doing something she shouldn't. Her heart was pounding and she did her best to keep her face passive, putting on the same neutral expression she so often wore in courtrooms. Mostly she tried to avoid staring.

Aang sat on one of the low leather couches in the corner, his long legs crossed, leaning casually on his elbow. He was talking to a girl who was part of the retinue from the Ba Sing Se firm – the Ba Sing Se _branch_ she mentally corrected herself. She was young and dark haired and cute, with a gap between her front teeth. The couches were arranged parallel and she sat opposite him, leaning forward to hear him over the din of conversation. He said something and she laughed, reaching over to touch his arm. Katara felt a surge of irritation and turned to one of her colleagues as he approached. She glanced around.

"Is Pakku here yet?" she asked, referring to their senior partner. The man shook his head.

"He's running late but he said he should be here in time for dinner."

Katara nodded, "I'm going to the bar. Come get me if you need anything."

She sat and ordered a club soda, sipping it while she picked idly through her email on her phone, not really paying attention to what she was doing. She wondered if she should go talk to him. Should she pretend she didn't know him or make it obvious that she did? Within a few minutes, Aang made the decision for her and sat down on the stool next to hers. She fixed her attention on her phone. The bartender refilled Aang's water and moved along.

"So," he said without looking at her, his voice low and casual, "What are you up to?"

She took a deep breath and affected a sigh, feigning disinterest for anyone who might be watching. "Dinner with the Ba Sing Se branch. They're leaving tomorrow. You?"

"Trying to hustle some tourists. It's not going very well, though. I think the one in the corner is the only prospect."

"Oh, she's with them. She's their secretary," Katara said, dropping her phone into her bag, sitting on the stool to her right./

Aang let out a disappointed sigh, "Good to know."

She drained her glass and let her gaze sweep the bar, picking out her coworkers from the crowd. Most of them had congregated on the couches in the corner. They were in high spirits, relieved that the week was over and laughing.

"I'm free if you want," She glanced at her watch, "Our reservation isn't for another forty five minutes."

He sipped his water to conceal a smile and checked the time himself on his phone, "Okay."

Katara stood, picked up her bag and walked out into the lobby. She went past the elevators to the bathrooms, which were situated opposite each other in an alcove off of the lobby. Men on the left, women on the right. At the end of the alcove were two unisex single stalls. Katara ducked into the one on the left and closed the door. Taking her phone out, she hung her bag on the hook on the wall, then sent him a text. She set her phone on the counter next to the sink and removed her jacket, hanging it over her bag.

A couple of minutes passed and the door opened. He stepped inside and locked it behind him.

"I think I can probably be gone about twenty minutes before they start to wonder." She turned her back to him.

"I can work with that," he hung his jacket over hers and loosened his tie while she kicked off her shoes.

"Will you unzip me?" she asked, referring to her skirt.

"Sure. Hold this." His hand appeared over her shoulder and she plucked the condom from between his fingers.

"Next you'll be asking me to put it on for you," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. She caught his eye in the mirror and he smiled.

"You can leave the manual labor to me," he replied. He unzipped her skirt and let his hands rest on her hips.

She held his gaze in the mirror and neither of them spoke. Katara finally looked away to wriggle out of her skirt, snagging it off of her leg and draping it on the counter to keep it from wrinkling. She straightened and he moved closer to her, sliding his arm around her, his chest against her back. Aang bowed his head to kiss her jaw, her neck.

She could not explain to herself why she was taking this stupid risk. Risking her career, risking the merger, even. He cupped one of her breasts.

For some reason she thought of the secretary from Ba Sing Se.

She leaned into him. "I need you to touch me," she murmured.

"I _am_ touching you," he said softly, in her ear. She let out a low whimper. His free hand was resting on her stomach and she twined her fingers in his, dragging his hand between her legs, pressing it against herself. She watched his face in the mirror as she did it. His lips were parted slightly, as if he were about to say something. When their eyes met again he closed his mouth, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Katara turned around and kissed him.

There was no time for slow, lingering exploration and before long he was kneeling in front of her, her shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, her leg draped over one of his broad shoulders. One of his hands was on her hip, palm pressed against her, fingers splayed, the most skin to skin contact they could manage considering the circumstances. His tongue slid against her and she closed her eyes, leaning back against the counter, head tipped back. Her fingertips rest on his head.

She had to cede the point where his skill level was concerned - this had quickly become one of her favorite parts of their encounters. Aang, to his credit, never seemed to tire of it and his dedication meant he had picked up on her cues in short order. He certainly had no qualms about being on his knees in a public bathroom.

Katara's fingers flexed as a groan shuddered through her, her nails lightly scraping his scalp. One of his dexterous fingers slid inside her and it was too much and not enough and she let out a shaky sigh. She licked her lips and straightened, digging the fingernails of her free hand into his shoulder. The darkness behind her eyelids made her bolder and she pushed back, into his mouth. The possibility of being caught wasn't distracting her as much as she had expected. None of this felt hurried or abbreviated, either. Instead, it seemed to have made him more persistent than usual, and all she could focus on was how good everything he was doing felt and how much she wanted him. She opened her eyes. Withdrawing her leg, she took a half step backward. He looked up at her and she smiled mischievously.

He stood and she unzipped his pants, reaching into them to touch him. He let out a groan, low and in his throat and kissed her. Katara groped behind her on the counter for the condom she'd left near her skirt. She pressed it into his hand, leaving the fumbling task of getting it open to him. As soon as her hands were free again she resumed touching him, this time letting her fingers slip into his underwear, revelling in how hard he was. He broke the kiss, barely, his lips still brushing hers when he spoke.

"Turn around," he said.

She had to rise up on her toes slightly to meet him in this position but she was beyond caring about such minimal inconveniences. Once he was inside her, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes in the mirror again, bowing her head so that her hair obscured her face. She reached out to brace herself against the counter and he held her hips to steady her. The rhythm he set was even, but she had to resist the urge to push back against him.

"Harder," she urged.

He dragged one of his hands down her back, "Damn, you're pushy today," he murmured - not without admiration - and complied. "Did you miss me or something?" he asked.

"Yeah," she groaned.

He had expected her to dismiss the question, or respond with a joke – the only reason he asked was because he hadn't anticipated a genuine answer. He was glad she wasn't looking because he knew his face betrayed his surprise. To his embarrassment, he caught sight of his own reflection and realized he was blushing slightly. It felt safer to focus on her hands in the mirror. Katara's fingertips flexed against the smooth marble counter, as if she were searching for something to grab onto. She let go of the counter with her right hand and it vanished between her legs. Finally, she tipped her head up again, eyes closed. Her mouth opened and she choked back a gasp, biting her lower lip to silence herself. She moaned his name once, then again, more urgently and he realized he was closer to climax than he thought. He came with a groan, the sound edged in disappointment. Katara opened her eyes to watch him, her eyes glazed and pointed somewhere around his mouth. Her back tensed and her left hand clenched into a fist, the heel of her hand still pressed against the stone to support herself as she rode out her own orgasm.

Her phone had been vibrating throughout all of this and once they were finished and he was cleaning up, she picked it up to sort through her texts and emails and missed calls. He passed her underwear to her from where he'd stashed them in his pocket to keep them off of the floor. She tugged them on one handed, her eyes still on the screen and he laughed, shaking his head. Looking up at him, she smiled sheepishly.

"One of the guys I used to see before you would take my phone away and turn it off." Aang pulled a face and Katara laughed. "What? I mean, you always turn yours off."

"Yeah, because it's _your_ time. I would never ask a client to turn their phone off."

She turned to face the sink, buttoning her shirt, watching him in the mirror, "Why?"

"A bunch of reasons but primarily it's incredibly inconsiderate of your safety." He took his phone from his pocket and scrolled through it, looking at something she couldn't see. Distracted, he added, almost as an afterthought, "Don't ever let a guy talk you into that again, okay?"

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again. Her face felt hot and she looked away from her own reflection. As he was holding it, his phone vibrated, and he frowned at the screen.

"Weird. Do you mind? It's Toph." She shook her head and he held it to his ear.

"Hey, Toph." He grinned at Katara, "No, I'm not busy." Katara stuck her tongue out at him, pulling her skirt back on. He held the phone with his shoulder so he could help her zip up. His brow furrowed as he listened and she could hear a female voice grow high and annoyed on the other end of the line. He nodded, "Well, yeah, I mean…right." He scratched his cheek, "Sure, I'd love to. No, honestly. Yeah, I'll put it on my calendar right now. Okay. Bye." He hung up and sighed.

"Everything all right?" Katara asked.

Aang nodded slowly, considering. He folded his arms across his chest. "Do you like stuffy parties?"

She laughed softly, "What?"

"Toph's mom is throwing a benefit fundraiser for her next gallery show. Toph wants me to come and run interference. Do you want to come?"

Katara raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Wait…like…not on the clock? Just _going_ together?"

"It's too weird, right? Sorry."

She bit her lip, "No, it's…it's not too weird."

"We always bring people we like to these things," he explained, "They're so boring we might as well be hanging out with our friends while we're there. Toph used to get dragged to them all of the time so I've been to a lot of them and I know how to talk to arts investors. Plus a lot of these people have known us since we were kids so they think it's charming that we're adults now and have opinions about things. It's nice to bring people they've never met and they'll think you're impressive." He paused, "There shouldn't be anyone there who knows what I do, other than Toph."

"When?" she asked.

"Saturday night."

Surprised again, her smile was self-conscious. "You don't already have plans?"

He shook his head, "I was leaving it open for you. I know you've been busy so I figured if I didn't hear from you by tonight I'd schedule something.

She was unable to stop her smile from widening at this, "Oh. Is this the sort of thing I would get to see you in a tuxedo for?"

"Yes, definitely."

Her hesitation was fleeting and she finally nodded, "All right."

"Great. Come by the house at 5 or so, we can take a car service over in case Toph bullies us into drinking." He took his jacket from the hook and put it on, "Do you want to go out first? I can wait a few minutes, I'm leaving, anyway."

"You're done with tourists?" she asked, crossing the small room to grab her jacket, as well.

"This was super fun. Better go out on a high note." She dropped her phone into her bag and began rifling through it and he shook his head, "We can settle up next time we schedule something. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?" she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"I know you're good for it." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, "See you Saturday."

She took a deep breath and exited the bathroom without looking back to rejoin her coworkers in the bar.


	5. Beifong Manor

Katara bought the dress shortly after she made partner. The firm had been invited to a black tie charity event and she'd spent more money than she cared to admit on it, determined to impress. It was a strapless, full length affair in silvery blue with a sheer overlay and elaborate embroidery on the bodice.

She pulled it out of the back of the closet and hung it on the door after work on Friday. Free of the garment bag, it was fuller and a little more showy than she remembered, and she found herself second guessing wearing it. She couldn't remember where she put the shoes that went with it. Sitting on the end of her bed, she stared at the dress as if she were about to cross examine it. Her eyes narrowed, she wondered what she was getting herself into and found no answers.

She got a manicure. Saturday morning she had her hair blown out, electing to wear it down. She went back and forth on winged eyeliner twice before she finally put it on.

It felt like she was about to go on a blind date.

The entry door at his house was standing open but she rang the bell anyway.

"Come in!" he called.

She entered the house and passed through the living room into the kitchen. Aang stood in the middle of the room, jacket hanging from the back of a nearby chair. His vest hung open and his tie dangled loose and undone from his collar. He was fiddling with the cuffs of his starched white shirt, a slight scowl marring his face.

"Sorry," he muttered, "I'm trying to get these-" he looked up and the sentence died on his lips, his eyes widening a little in surprise. She was simultaneously delighted and self-conscious when she noticed his cheeks had reddened slightly. "Uh," he began, "I, uh…" His eyes swept from her face to her feet and back.

She put her hands on her hips, "Smooth," she said dryly.

He grinned, laughing at himself a little, "Sorry," he repeated, "You look amazing."

"The hair isn't too casual?" she asked skeptically.

"The hair is great." He folded his arms across his chest, his struggle with his accessories seemingly forgotten.

She smirked, "Do you need help with your cuff links?"

He sighed, his reverie broken, "Yes, please."

She walked over to him and set her bag on the counter. He dropped the cuff links into her outstretched hand and offered his arm.

Standing this close to him she could smell his cologne, which was a little spicy and almost smoky and always reminded her of incense. He must have put it on right before she arrived because usually it was so subtle the only time she could smell it was when he was shirtless. It was such an incongruous association with what they were doing now, standing awkwardly in his kitchen fumbling with his cuff links. She fought back a laugh, pressing her lips together.

"What?" he asked.

She shrugged as she fastened the first one and he extended his other arm, "Feels like we're getting ready to leave for a school dance," she said. "Is there a corsage in your fridge by chance?"

"There is not," he responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She finished with the second cuff link and stepped back to retrieve her bag from the counter.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Actually, you can return the favor and finish buttoning my dress. There are two at the top and I couldn't quite manage both of them. The zipper is doing most of the work, fortunately." She turned and swept her hair up and out of the way. His fingers grazed her bare back. When she turned around again he brushed a stray hair back into place and smiled.

"You really do look great. Everyone's going to be hounding me behind your back all night wondering who you are." He indicated his bow tie, "I'm going to go tie this thing. I'll be right back. You know where everything is."

"Thanks."

He went upstairs and she sat at the kitchen table with her phone. Aang's jacket hung on the chair across from her and she leaned forward on the table, chin in her hand. She stared at it with her eyes narrowed, the same way she'd stared at her dress.

She wondered if there were condoms in the inside pocket, where he always kept them. She drummed her fingers on the table.

" _We might as well be hanging out with our friends,_ " he'd told her. Shouldn't it be enough to know he considered her a friend? It was certainly more than she ever would have expected when they first met. She bit her lip and sat back in the chair, turning her face stubbornly in the other direction.

A horn honked outside and she could hear Aang rapidly descending the stairs.

"Wow. I'm further behind schedule than I thought," he said, crossing the room to take his jacket from the chair. He pulled it on and brushed unseen dust from the front of it with the back of his hand. Katara stood, double checking that her phone was set to vibrate and putting it back in her bag.

"I'm lucky this thing still fits," he said, holding out his arms and looking down, brows knit slightly as he appraised himself, "It's been a while." He looked up at her and she smiled. "What do you think?"

She wasn't sure how to answer this. In black he looked even taller and leaner than usual. There was something decidedly graceful about the figure he cut in a tux and she sighed, considering. Her first instinct was to make a joke about how expensive he looked, to minimize the whole situation. The impulse came and went as soon as she recognized it. She smiled, feeling a little melancholy.

"You look gorgeous," she said, opting for honesty, "you usually do."

He ran his hand across his stubbled scalp, rubbing the back of his head absently in that bashful way he sometimes did. He started to say something when the driver honked again outside. Surprised, he glanced at his watch.

"Okay, he's right. We need to get going. We'll never hear the end of it from Toph if we're late."

xXXx

Beifong Manor stood on a point overlooking Yue Bay, the water on one side and the city on the other. A long private drive lined with trees and wrought iron lamps wound its way up to a gate manned by a guard - which they were waved through - and kept going. As they approached the house, Katara turned to Aang.

"Any last minute advice?" she asked. He took a deep breath, head tilted slightly, looking up toward the ceiling.

"Oh!" he met her eyes again, "People are going to want to know how we met. What do you think we should tell them?" Katara hesitated and Aang waved her off, "I'll think of something. Or Toph will make something up. She's good at that sort of thing."

The car came to a stop and the driver got out to come around and open the door. Aang shrugged, "Just smile and nod, that's what I do." He got out of the car, buttoning his jacket, offering his hand as she followed him out.

There was a sweeping staircase in the entryway and chandeliers hung from the high, arched ceilings. It was so ornate that it hardly looked like a place people lived out their day to day lives. There were a few people milling around, laughing and carrying champagne and someone played a piano off to their right. The low hum of conversation seemed to be coming mostly from upstairs. Katara spun a slow circle to look around.

"This place is incredible," she said to Aang, her voice low. He offered his arm and she took it.

"Yeah, if you're ever fifteen and want to make out with someone at a birthday party I highly recommend it," he said, "There are a lot of hiding places."

She laughed as they made their way up the stairs. "Did you spend a lot of time here as a teenager?"

"Probably the most out of any of Toph's friends but that still wasn't quite what I would call a lot. She liked to get out of the house whenever she could. We're going this way," he said, pointing to a hallway to their left that lead to a ballroom. There were portraits of what Katara assumed were long dead ancestors in heavy frames on the walls, mosaic floors that looked older than she cared to guess.

"This is one of the oldest houses in Republic City," Aang said, as if he could tell what she was thinking, "Probably the largest, too, actually," he mused. "The Beifongs have been here pretty much since the city was founded."

"Does Toph still live here?"

He shook his head, "She has an apartment downtown. I thought her dad was going to have a nervous breakdown when she moved out but it turned out fine."

There was an attendant standing just inside the door and he smiled and nodded at Aang as they passed. Toph's art was everywhere, the edges of the room arranged like a gallery with tables relegated to the center. Some of them were occupied but most people were standing in small groups around the artwork, talking and drinking.

"First order of business is finding Toph which shouldn't be too…there she is." He nodded toward the far corner of the room where a knot of people stood crowded around something mounted to a wall.

They made their way across the room and this ended up taking nearly five minutes because people kept stopping them to say hello to Aang. They were brief exchanges but they were numerous: "We haven't seen you in a while, dear," or "so good to see you again" and, confusingly, "it's good to see you're staying in shape", this last one from a young man who looked a little self-satisfied and smirked before they walked away.

Katara wasn't sure what exactly she'd been expecting, but she was surprised by Toph, who was diminutive and looked annoyed when they walked up. There was a grey cast to her pupils and irises and it was with admiration that Katara noted she wasn't concealing them. Her dark hair was twisted up into a simple bun held in place with metal sticks. The piece on the wall she was standing next to was a concrete slab covered in cracks and dust. The corner had broken off completely and was smeared with an angry, red swipe of paint; it was mounted with an intentional gap separating it from the rest of the piece. She was saying something to a barrel chested man with dark hair and large hands.

"…and then I usually overwork the surface on purpose, when it's a slab. Obviously I have to be more stringent with standing shapes but for slabs, the more texture the better as far as I'm concerned."

"The structural integrity is-"

She cut him off, "It's not a basement, it's art. The cracks make the concrete look fragile. It's good juxtaposition."

The man's face broke into an affable smile, "If you keep talking that way I'll start sending you invitations to give guest lectures again," he warned.

"How am I supposed to get around that place without my eyes?" Toph asked and everyone laughed.

"I think I'm still up to the job," Aang offered from the back of the group. A few people turned to look and Toph grinned.

"Oh, nice of you to join us. All right, we'll resume our reunion later. It's not good to reminisce about high school when you're sober, anyway." This earned another laugh and the group dispersed. Aang and Katara stayed behind.

"So!" Toph cocked her head to the side, "Did you bring her?"

Aang grinned, "Yeah. Katara, this is Toph Beifong. Toph, this is Katara."

Toph extended her hand and Katara took it. It was rough and calloused and her handshake was uncomfortably firm.

"Nice to meet you. Aang's told me almost nothing about you."

Katara laughed, "That's reassuring."

"All right, I need alcohol. Urgently." Toph reached out and Aang offered his free arm. She took it with both hands, "My mom is keeping a tally of my drinks, as usual. Katara, are you as much of a boring pushover as Aang? He usually carries an extra drink for me and pretends it's his."

"I'm boring but not a pushover," Katara said as they walked together.

"Name your price."

Katara gave a satisfied smile, "Come up with some lie about how Aang and I met."

"Easy. Yoga class."

"Yoga is for hippies," Katara said with a sidelong glance at Aang, who gasped in mock affront. Toph chuckled.

"I like you," she said. "Well, it can't be anything too interesting. Better to think of something they won't have follow up questions for." She paused, "If they're young, say the library. If they're old, say the internet."

"Huh," Katara murmured impressed.

"I told you," Aang said.

They reached the bar and the bartender shot a meaningful glance at Toph. Aang held up three fingers and he nodded. A short distance away, an older woman waved to them.

"I'm going to go say hi to Aunt Wu," Aang said, "Do you two mind keeping each other company for a minute?" Toph grinned.

"Go ahead, I have plenty of embarrassing anecdotes about you to share with her, anyway."

"Yes, good," Katara agreed.

"Good," Aang echoed weakly, "This night is going to go well for me," he retrieved his drink and walked away.

Toph leaned closer to Katara, "Is there anyone on the balcony right now?"

Katara craned her neck to look through the crowd, "I don't see anyone."

The smaller woman ran her fingertips across the bar until she found her drink, then hooked her arm through Katara's, "Let's go," she said. Katara took up her glass, as well, then began their trek across the room.

"I love the piece of yours that Aang has in his living room," she said as they walked, "It's really striking."

"Thanks," Toph replied, "He probably didn't tell you but he helped with that one. I could have finished it by myself but it would have taken twice the time."

They stepped onto the balcony. It was warm out with a light breeze. Republic City was lit up before them. They walked to the railing and Toph released Katara's arm and felt her way along to the wall. She turned her back and leaned against it, setting her drink down on the railing to rummage through her small leather clutch.

"He tried to pay me for it but I wouldn't let him," she continued, "He won't let me pay rent for using his workshop so it's the only way I have to get back at him."

Katara leaned on the railing facing Toph, "Workshop?"

"Yeah, above his garage. It used to be his dance studio but obviously he isn't using it anymore, so…" Toph pulled a joint from her bag and stuck it into her mouth, still digging distractedly.

Katara's brow furrowed, "Wait, what?"

"There you are." Aang interrupted them, joining them on the balcony. Toph gestured for him to come closer. He stuck his hand in his pocket, "Did you lose yours again? Here," he said, taking Toph's hand in his own and closing his lighter in it. She smiled.

"Are you guys going to do that here?" Katara hissed.

"It's traditional," Toph said lightly, "this is how you get through a Beifong fundraiser." Aang leaned against the railing, turning his back on the view of the city to watch the door.

"I'm going to be disbarred if I keep hanging out with you two," Katara muttered, moving to shield Toph from view.

"Better make it worth it," she replied in a conspiratorial undertone, extending her hand. Katara sighed heavily and took the joint from her, a victorious grin spreading across Toph's face.

"Yes. No one wants to say no to a blind girl."

Katara coughed as she exhaled, "This is nothing. Law school is almost entirely studying for tests and binge drinking."

"Clearly I missed my calling," Toph deadpanned.

Holding his breath Aang said, "Mom incoming." he snuffed the joint on the railing and flicked it off of the balcony. Leaning back, he hastily blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth, into the wind.

Toph let out a defeated groan, "How does she always _know_?"

"We need to find a new spot," Aang said.

"Uh huh."

"There you are," Mrs. Beifong said, leaning over the threshold.

"Mom, have you met Katara?" Toph asked, her voice overly loud, "She's a very important lawyer with a lot of interesting things to say."

Mrs. Beifong shook her head, "Don't try to distract me, young lady. There are some people in here who want to talk to you. Hello, Aang," she added, "Come and talk to me later, dear. I have to talk to the band but I want to catch up with you." She turned and went back inside before he could reply.

Toph tilted her head back. "Crap," she grumbled in irritation. She emptied her drink and reached out for Katara's, then unfolded her cane, "Come and rescue me in five minutes," she said. Aang glanced at his watch as she went inside.

"Does she not get along with her mom?" Katara asked once they were alone. Aang shook his head.

"She's just overbearing. It's always gotten on Toph's nerves."

Katara nodded and took a couple of steps forward to let her arms rest on the railing. Aang leaned on his elbows, still watching the people inside.

"Toph told me she uses your workshop," Katara said.

He nodded, "Mm hm."

"And she told me it used to be a dance studio?"

"Oh. Yeah." He looked down at his glass and idly swirled the contents.

"You…used to dance?" Katara prodded.

Aang turned to join her in looking out over the city. His jaw was a little tight and it was the first time she could recall seeing him look uncomfortable. He set his glass on the railing.

"Yeah," he said again, "For the Republic City Ballet."

"What? Really?" She straightened and turned to face him. He smiled sadly. "Were…I mean, this is such a stupid question but…were you good?"

He chuckled, "Well, all art is subjective." She raised an eyebrow and he sighed, "I was a soloist."

Katara admittedly knew little about ballet but could guess what this meant in context.

"What happened?" she asked.

He frowned, "I uh," he cleared his throat, "I hurt my knee. We were in rehearsals and…" he held his hands out, palms up, "I had a good surgeon and I was diligent about my rehab, I probably could have gone back to work. But it was around the same time my parents died and…by the time I was strong enough my heart wasn't in it. I kept thinking I would go back and then before I knew it more than a year had passed. It felt too late."

This was so much new information about him that it took Katara a moment to parse everything he'd said and silence fell between them. She just stared at him, a little stunned and with no idea what to say. The fuzziness settling at the edges of her perception brought the stillness into sharper focus. The band had begun playing and the sound of a cello drifted outside.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice low, as if she were worried someone might overhear them.

"It's all right," he said, "I don't talk about it much. I haven't been to a Beifong fundraiser in a couple of years, it must be making me nostalgic." He reached out for her hand, pulling her closer, putting his other hand on her waist. "I think I still remember how to do this, at least."

Katara smiled up at him, "Weren't we just talking about school dances earlier? I think that was the last time I did this," she let her free hand rest on his shoulder, "if anyone should be worried here, it's me."

He returned her smile but it was wistful, "Don't worry. I'm a professional."

They moved slowly across the balcony for a moment. Katara leaned into him and sighed.

"I lost my mom," she said quietly, "When I was a kid."

He squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry."

"What happened to your parents?" she asked.

"They were in a car accident," he said simply. She could tell there was more he wanted to say but he didn't. "What about your mom?"

"She was murdered," Katara said, and the sentence came out unsteady and unpracticed, almost a question. Aang missed a beat in his steps but recovered. "I was really little," she went on, "in kindergarten." She realized she was digging her fingers into his shoulders slightly and let her hand relax. He was quiet, leaving her room to continue, so she did.

"We still had our dad and he did his best. Our grandmother moved in with us after…after it happened. Dad had to work so much to support us that she basically raised us." She swallowed down the lump that was forming in her throat and looked up at him, "What about your family?"

He shrugged, "There really isn't any. My mom was an only child and I had an uncle on my dad's side but he's gone now."

"You don't have any siblings?"

He shook his head and smiled, "My parents used to say they got it right the first time."

She laughed quietly, "They sound sweet."

"They were great. I really miss them." He stopped and slid his arms around her to hold her close to him for a moment. "Let's go save Toph," he murmured in her ear.

xXXx

He had not been kidding when he said he knew how to talk to arts investors. Katara was not surprised how effortlessly he charmed people but it was a little overwhelming to stand beside him and see how readily everyone was swept up into his orbit. People just liked him, genuinely, and he seemed to make it happen just by being there. He didn't talk much, mostly listened, and he never seemed bored, even when he was talking to old women about their grandchildren. He would steer the conversation back to Toph and her art whenever he could manage it but he never brought up money directly. Instead, he talked about how much time she was spending in the studio, how she'd smashed her fingers with a hammer, how critical she was of her work.

People were intrigued with Katara, as much because of her career as because she was with Aang. She gathered from their reactions that he didn't often bring dates to these sorts of events. Katara knew next to nothing about Toph comparatively so when she needed to redirect, she asked questions, instead; about how long Toph had been a visual artist, about her chosen medium. "Are visitors at the gallery going to be able to touch the work?" she asked at one point. Aang was so impressed with this last question he was unable to conceal a smile in her direction and squeezed her hand. It turned out this issue in particular was something Toph felt especially strongly about and she talked at length – the longest Katara had heard her hold court about any topic that night – about how important it was for people to be able to experience her work the same way she did, with their hands.

As the night wore on and people started to filter out, the three of them slowly strolled the perimeter of the room talking; about Toph's art, about her upcoming gallery show. She became more expansive and talkative once she finished the drink Aang had been carrying and and laughed a little more easily once they were free of their obligation to make idle conversation. Katara listened while the two of them reminisced and teased each other.

At around ten, Toph stretched and yawned, "Thanks for coming tonight, you guys," she said, "You can get out of here. I think I'm going to stay here the night, I'll probably sneak off to bed soon."

"You sure?" Aang asked.

She sighed, "Yeah. I'll be over at some point tomorrow to do some work."

"All right." Aang pulled her into a hug, which she grudgingly reciprocated, "See you later."

When they separated, Toph held out a hand for Katara to shake.

"It was really nice meeting you," Katara told her, "Aang mentions you pretty often, it's nice to finally put a face with the name."

"Thanks." she jabbed a thumb in Katara's direction, "She's cool. You can bring her around again." Toph walked away and Katara turned to Aang, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"That's high praise coming from her," he said. He took out his phone and sent a text, "Do you want to go wait for the car outside? Get some air?"

"Sure."

As they descended the stairs, arm in arm, Aang heaved a sigh, "You know, no one asked how we met. I'm almost disappointed. I had a library story all ready."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, I was going to talk about how pretty I thought you were and how I used the book you were reading as an excuse to strike up a conversation. It was a cute story. You had a pencil behind your ear and everything. It was very detail oriented."

She rolled her eyes but smiled, "What was I reading about then, smart guy?" she asked.

"Yoga," he answered immediately.

"You're the worst," she scoffed and he laughed.


	6. Wounded

The house was still and quiet.

It was dusk and he stood on the threshold gripped by sudden anxiety. With no lights on, it looked abandoned from the outside and felt ominous inside. The open space yawned before him, buzzing with tension and the faint noise of the appliances in the kitchen. It felt like someone was about to enter the room, or say something, but there was nothing.

The house felt like it was waiting.

He retreated, closing the door and locking it. The sound of the key scraping in the lock was grating and jarring. He could hear crickets. It was cool out and he stood on the concrete steps, looking out into the yard. His back tingled, like someone was sneaking up behind him, and he tried to ignore it. His hands were fists in the pockets of his sweatshirt and there was dried sweat on his shoulders and chest. He felt wrung out and exhausted. Letting out a heavy sigh, Aang stepped off of the porch, walking slowly around the house to the garage.

The floodlight was on and threw a shadow over the stairs up to the studio. He'd left the door unlocked earlier and flicked the lights on before he was even fully inside. Once he was inside he had no idea what to do.

The funeral had been nearly three months ago now. He'd sublet his apartment and moved his furniture into storage. He still could not bear getting rid of his parents' furniture. The mattress in the master bedroom smelled like his mother's perfume and the couch was still inexplicably yielding Appa's fur every now and then, even though the dog had been dead for years. He filled out insurance paperwork at the kitchen table, the same table he'd eaten cereal and birthday cake at, then escaped to the studio. He practiced and lifted weights and did cardio until he was exhausted beyond thought. Stumbling through this reality in which his parents no longer existed, his work became his only reference point and it seemed fitting. They had supported him and sacrificed for him. And they had been so proud.

Now he stood in the studio and stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror behind the barre, stared at nothing.

He had no idea what to do.

Outside, there was the sound of a car pulling up, then driving away. A moment later the familiar tap of Toph's cane on the steps reverberated up. He'd left the door open and heard her footsteps behind him.

"Hi, Toph," he said, and his voice was flat. He didn't turn around.

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, before she entered and closed the door. She crossed the room and stood in front of him, her sightless eyes pointed at his chest.

"Ty Lee called me after she dropped you off," she explained. "She said you told her not to."

"Yeah," he replied.

"She said you're supposed to have ice on it," Toph said, her voice small.

His chin trembled and he bit his tongue to stop it. She touched his arm and felt her way down to his hand. Toph twined her fingers through his and squeezed. He had held her hand countless times since they'd met, guiding her carefully through the halls at school, down busy sidewalks. She'd held his hand at the funeral.

It was a familiar sensation and it cut through the haze that had been thrown over his mind the moment he heard the pop in his knee, the moment he'd fallen and rehearsals had come to a grinding halt.

His work was the only thing that reminded him of his parents without wounding him and now he just felt raw and tired and hollow.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, and her voice was unusually quiet.

He thought of the countless hours they'd spent here together. He thought of his parents. His knee throbbed. Head bowed, he squeezed his eyes shut.

He held Toph's hand and wept.


	7. Need

The car pulled up to the curb, idling in the darkness. Aang turned to Katara and nodded toward the house.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked.

"I'd love to give my feet a break for a little bit," she admitted.

They went inside where Aang removed his jacket and untied his tie and Katara left her shoes by the door. Aang rolled up his shirt sleeves and made tea. They took it into the living room and sat on the couch together.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Katara asked as they settled in.

"Sure," he said, raising his cup to his lips.

"Have you ever slept with Toph?"

Aang inhaled the tea he'd been sipping. He set his cup down on the table to cough his windpipe clear, shaking his head.

"No," he finally managed, "I can't even imagine what that would be like." He paused, "Excruciating, probably."

Katara smiled, "You two are so close, I was just curious if there was history."

He nodded, "There's a lot, just not that kind. She used to hang out in the studio while I practiced so we spent a lot of time together. Her folks like me and they trusted my parents. They didn't give her a lot of freedom as a kid and our house was kind of the exception so she was here all of the time."

"Wait," she said, realizing, pointing toward the floor, "This is the house you grew up in?"

"I've done a lot of remodeling but, yeah. My parents built the studio when I started going to the arts academy."

"And that's where you met Toph," she supplied. Katara leaned into the couch, "I still can't picture you doing ballet."

With a sigh of resignation, Aang stood and crossed the room to the bookshelf. Hand on his hip, he scanned the spines and pulled out a black, leather bound volume. He returned to the couch and handed it to her, sitting down beside her again. She set it down in her lap, a quizzical expression on her face, expecting an explanation. He silently gestured to the book with his open hand.

Katara opened it and saw it was a photo album. A little boy smiled up from the first page. He was wearing black tights and a white t shirt and waving at the camera. His black hair was combed neatly to the side, out of his face. Beneath the photo in tidy cursive was written _Aang - Age 10_.

"Aww," she laughed softly, "You were adorable." He smiled wistfully and looked away, taking another sip of his tea.

Photo after photo showed him smiling, hugging other children in class, looking nervous in recitals. At thirteen he was still smiling but looked more focused. He still embraced classmates, sticking his tongue out or caught with his mouth open, mid sentence. At sixteen he'd begun shaving his head. He sat on the floor in what she supposed was the studio above the garage, stretching. Toph sat across from him, laughing with her head thrown back. In the next photo they stood together at the barre, Aang with his leg up but also supporting Toph in an imitation of his pose, both of them attempting to look very stern and failing. There was a photo of him in a car, waving through the window, captioned D _riving to class BY HIMSELF_. Performances began looking more organized and polished. The physical transformation was dramatic. In early photos he was skinny, almost willowy, and short, blending in with the girls. By his late teens he was tall, his frame growing steadily more muscular.

There was a photo of Aang on stage with another teenager, both of them in heavy looking period clothing.

"Did you do theater, too?" she asked.

He grimaced, "Not by choice. I'm a terrible actor but our teachers told us it was good for stage presence."

An entire page of the album was taken up by a letter on Republic City Ballet letterhead.

"That's from when I was hired on as a corps dancer," he explained as Katara's eyes skimmed over it.

"How old were you?" she asked.

"Seventeen." He turned toward her, his knee touching her thigh, his right arm slung over the back of the couch. He leaned in a little to touch the photo on the opposite page. Probably a publicity photo from the looks of it; "Republic City Corps de Ballet" was printed along the bottom. Only his head was visible in the back, "That's me," he said, "They almost didn't hire me because I'm so tall."

She glanced at him, "Did your mom put this album together?"

He sat back against the arm of the couch and sighed, running his hand over his head, "Yeah."

"She must have been really proud of you."

He was silent, letting his hand rest absently on his knee.

The photos after this were almost entirely professionally taken - some of performances, some of rehearsals. There were a scant few in classes. There was another letter, this one about his promotion to soloist. On the next page was a black and white photo of Aang and a young woman practicing a lift in the middle of a circle of people in a studio, looking on. The girl had braids wrapped tightly against her head. They both looked intent and focused and strong.

"My mom loved that photo," he said, his voice quiet.

The pages after were blank and a quarter of the album was unused. It felt heartbreakingly unfinished and Katara sighed. She turned her head to look at Aang and he gave an awkward laugh. He hesitated, then appeared to reach a decision about something.

"Look at the next page."

Katara turned the page. There were two photos: one was of a couple standing next to a wedding cake and smiling, their arms around each other. It was faded and the edges were worn. The other was clearly the same couple, older and in practically the same pose, dressed up for an evening out. In both photos they were beaming, it looked like they had stopped laughing just long enough for the shutter to click. Neither of the photos were labelled and she felt like she had stumbled on something private, something she wasn't supposed to see.

"Are these your parents?" she asked. She glanced up at him and saw that his attention was on her, not the photos. He cleared his throat and nodded, his gaze dropping to the album in her lap.

"That's from their wedding, obviously. That one," he indicated the other photo, "is from the night I had my first performance as a soloist."

His father had been tall, like Aang, and broad-shouldered. He had warm, almond-shaped eyes and a strong jaw. His mother was petite and had Aang's easy, contagious grin and it made Katara smile to see it. They were dark haired, though they were both graying at the temples in the later photo.

"They were really beautiful," she said. Aang nodded slowly, a faint crease between his brows. She wondered how long it had been since he'd seen these photos; if he was doing what she often did when she looked at photos of her mother: trying to remember the sound of their voices or wondering whether memories of them were real or imagined, maybe embroidered dreams. She laid her hand over his on his knee and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

"Were either of them dancers?" she asked.

A small smile flashed across his face and he returned his attention to Katara, "No. My mom loved dance but she was sort of clumsy. Dad was the athletic one but he was a physics professor at United Republic University. They were more interested in art on an academic level."

"What did your mom do?"

"She was a doctor."

Katara glanced around, "Forgive me for saying this, but this is a pretty modest house for a professor and a doctor." She closed the album and set it on the table. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and looked around.

"I suppose. They were philanthropists; a lot of their money went to charity. And they spent a lot of it on me." He looked embarrassed, his eyes downcast. He pressed his fist against his lips in pensive silence before adding, "Seems like it was kind of a waste in retrospect."

Katara was surprised and touched at how frank he was being. She frowned, "I don't know much about your parents," she said, a little hesitantly, "but I'm sure they wouldn't want to hear their son talking about himself that way." Scooting closer to him, she curled her legs up onto the couch, letting her thigh rest on his. He slid the arm that had been hanging over the back of the couch around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. She wasn't looking at him, too busy adjusting her dress around her legs, but still he gave a lopsided smile.

"Hey," he teased, "Aren't you super successful? What would you know about disappointing your folks?"

She scoffed, "Oh, the people I never see because I'm so busy with work? Those ones?" At last she met his eyes again and realized how close together they were sitting. Katara leaned into him, head resting lazily on his shoulder, her hands in her lap. She felt warm and comfortably sleepy. Aang ran the knuckles of his free hand down her upper arm before letting it rest on her thigh.

"Did you become a lawyer because of what happened to your mom?" he asked.

She frowned, "I think so. I wanted to be a prosecutor and I did start out in criminal law but I took it too personally. I had a hard time maintaining perspective." She slipped her hand beneath his on her thigh, knuckles against his palm, running her thumb back and forth across the heel of his hand.

"I can't remember the last time I talked about my mom. It's nice to talk to someone who understands."

He twined his fingers in hers and squeezed her hand gently, "I know," he agreed.

"Maybe this is part of the reason we get along so well," she mused.

"I knew it," he replied, his voice heavy with irony, "You only like me for my dead parents."

She gasped out an incredulous laugh and pinched his side.

"I can't even believe you," she said and he chuckled. "Hey, I had fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me."

"Thanks for coming. It was great having you there." They sat in silence for a moment and she felt his chest expand with a sigh. "You know…I wish we'd met some other way," he confessed.

She tilted her head slightly to look up at him.

"I like you," he went on, "It makes me wish I weren't working for you."

Katara bit the inside of her lower lip. She felt like she should say something but couldn't bring herself to. She knew what she wanted to say: that she still thought he was sweet, just like she had the first night they met. That she felt safe in his arms. Somehow this moment felt impossibly intimate, more intimate than all of the times she'd moaned his name or the times he'd put his mouth on her.

"Sorry," he said. He started to turn his head, to look at her, "I really shouldn't-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when Katara kissed him. His arm tightened around her. When they separated, her heart was pounding in her chest and he looked a little dazed. She drew in a deep breath.

"You're not working for me right now," she murmured.

There was a still moment when it seemed neither of them were breathing and then his lips were on hers again. She touched his face, silently coaxing him to continue, her tongue sliding against his. His hand roamed from her thigh to her side, fingers splayed across her ribs, his thumb perilously close to the underside of her breast. She sucked his lower lip between hers and he groaned as she released it. As if the sound brought her back to her senses, she broke the kiss with a little frustrated sound and pressed her forehead against his, eyes still closed. She let her hands rest on his shoulders.

"What's happening right now?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

"We went on a date and now we're making out in my living room." Katara opened her eyes and scoffed and he sighed, "I know it's confusing. It's new territory for me, too. We can stop."

She closed her eyes again, "I don't want to stop," she whispered. He swallowed roughly.

"Me neither," he replied.

She shifted to her knees to straddle him, her skirt rustling, kissing him again. Once she'd settled back onto his lap, she began unbuttoning his shirt. He caught her wrists gently and she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He ran his thumbs across her palms, a soft smile on his face, "Just trying not to get carried away." He kissed her knuckles, "Tell me what you want," he murmured.

She knew she was blushing and avoided his eyes, "You always know what I want," she whispered playfully. He chuckled and shook his head.

"I know what you _like_. That's different," he said.

Katara hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to answer, realization finally fighting its' way through the fog of her hormones. He didn't know what the expectation was tonight but that was only part of it. She had never really appreciated how cautious he always was, never considered that he exercised restraint. All the time they spent together was focused on her. It was nice that he wanted her but it was incidental and they both understood that. It was in his interest to make her feel wanted. Making their encounters about what he wanted would have been an imposition. Rude, even. His hands around her wrists were strong and warm and she realized how careful he'd always been.

She wondered what he was like when he was not being careful. She kissed him again.

"I want you to take me upstairs," she whispered against his lips, not at all embarrassed by the pleading edge to her tone.

xXXx

Aang had been working as an escort for two years. His work now and the experience of being on stage were not entirely dissimilar. He had to maintain a certain facade. His day to day life was about aesthetics and how he performed and it didn't matter much if he was uninterested or tired. He had to push through his day sometimes and it required focus, awareness of the image he was projecting. That shell was something he worked at maintaining and for many of his clients, it was all they ever saw. It was a vessel they poured all of their desire and neediness and problems into. He kept them company when they were lonely, met them in hotel rooms while their spouses were on business trips. He didn't acknowledge framed photos tipped face down on dressers. He did his best to soothe bitterness and resentment and anger and sadness, to help them forget.

Some were easy to work with and Katara fell into this category. He couldn't believe his luck when she came on as a client; she was smart and beautiful and generous and once she relaxed, relatively easy to please. She was kind. When she became a regular client, he prioritized her time shamelessly and never regretted it.

If his brain could have produced lights and sirens it would have.

She was pushing his shirt off of his shoulders and then his hands were in her hair and as she backed him toward the bed, there was practically a bright, flashing warning sign in his mind that read: you are ruining your relationship with this client.

The moment he'd spoken on the couch, it was over. They were past salvaging a professional relationship. Not because he couldn't have genuine affection for a client - he did, for many of them. Not because what they were doing now would set some sort of precedent, because he could have smoothed over even that.

She _saw_ him and he hadn't even been aware of how much he needed that intimacy. He wanted it, wanted her, needed her to know. He couldn't claim he hadn't been thinking, or had been swept up in the moment. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew the risk.

Katara slid her hands beneath his undershirt, over his abdomen, across his ribs. He held up his arms and she tugged the shirt up and off, dropping it on the floor. His fingers found the buttons he'd helped her with earlier and undid them. Fingertips splayed on the hard expanse of his chest, she pushed away from him slightly, creating just enough space between them for her to turn around. She combed her fingers through her hair, bringing it forward and out of the way.

Aang unzipped her dress, dragging the fingers of his free hand along her exposed skin as he went. She slipped the dress from her shoulders and let it fall, bending slightly to wriggle it free at the waist. When she turned to face him again his eyes skimmed over her body, bare with the exception of the scrap of lace that passed as underwear. He framed her hips in his hands and pulled her close again, her bare chest pressing against his when she draped her arms around his neck. His hands slid up her sides, one of them stopping on the small of her back. The other continued up and he buried his fingers in her hair. He kissed her and it was hungry and deep and sent a wave of desire through her, heat pooling between her thighs.

She dragged her hands down the center of his chest, nails lightly raking his skin as she went. Her tongue was insistent against his and her fingertips crept into the waistband of his pants. She was so preoccupied with unzipping them she almost didn't notice when he began turning her around, leading her gently with his hand. Once her back was to the bed, he released her to push his pants down over his lean hips, stepping on them to tug them the rest of the way off. This was so uncharacteristically graceless that she giggled a little as she sat down on the edge of the bed. He gave a conspiratorial grin as he kicked them out of the way.

Katara bent her knees, pulling her feet up onto the bed with the intention of scooting backward. Before she could manage it, Aang was standing between her legs, catching her hips to tug her back to the edge. He sank to his knees on the floor, stroking her thighs, and when he bent down Katara felt the heat of his exhalation spill across her. His lips brushed the tortuously thin layer of fabric that separated her skin from his mouth. She laid back with a whimper to submit to the torment, running her fingertips up along the back of his head. The sharp friction of his stubble against the pads of her fingers was in stark contrast to his lips on the inside of her thigh. He kissed his way up toward her knee, leaving goosebumps in his wake, then worked his way back down again. She held her breath in anticipation when he reached the joint of her thigh, but he moved to her other leg and she moaned in protest. Aang chuckled and nipped at the inside of her knee gently, drawing out an appreciative hiss before he began his descent.

"You are a terrible man," she groaned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied innocently. He straightened, walked his fingers up to her hips and hooked them in the waistband of her underwear. She arched up off of the bed so he could pull them off, pressing her thighs together as she lifted her feet, desperate for even a moment of friction and relief. Once she was divested of the last of her clothing she parted her legs again and let her toes rest on his shoulders. She sat up a bit, leaning back on her elbows, propping herself up just enough to look down at him, to watch him.

Aang slid his hands beneath her, palms on her backside. For a moment she thought he might continue drawing it out but she could tell from the way he looked at her that he didn't want to wait any more, either. He bent down, leaned in and pressed his tongue against her, soft and flat, dragging upward in a single stroke. She gave a shuddering sigh, as if it was the first time he'd ever done it, as if the sensation was a surprise. Her lips parted to let out a moan just as he engulfed her aching, wet flesh in the dark heat of his mouth. She choked on her own voice, tilting her head back, eyes closed. He sucked gently - too gently - and she laid down fully and tipped her hips up, pushing back against his mouth. It felt almost lecherous but she didn't care. He focused the pressure, lips pursed around her clit and she cried out, arching her back off of the bed. His tongue dipped inside her and it was not enough. She squeezed her breast, harder than he would have, her nipple trapped between her fingers. Her fingernails bit into the soft skin, little pink half-moon indentations left behind. Her breathing became sharp pants as he started over again, parting her folds with his tongue, drawing the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. She rolled her hips and he held them to steady her as the conflagration built. He slid his finger inside her and she fell into climax as he stroked up and toward himself, as if beckoning her, coaxing her through the sudden and blinding light of her orgasm. She jerked in his grasp but he held fast with his free hand, withdrawing his finger to support her and to stoke her desire with another caress of his tongue. Her own breathing sounded harsh in her ears, cutting through the pleasant buzzing in her head. She sank back into the blankets and he ran his fingertips up her ribcage as he joined her on the bed.

Katara scooted up toward the head of the bed, her movements ungainly, Aang following along. She dropped back into the pillows and he kissed her hip, her belly, holding himself up over her. Dragging his parted lips lightly from the underside of her breast to her nipple, he took it into his mouth, tongue slipping across the tight, sensitive skin. She tried to bite back a moan but it escaped when he released her abruptly to move to her other breast. His hand replaced his mouth, the dampness of his own saliva beneath his palm. She felt his teeth on her skin, delicate and cautious. He kissed the spot and then pulled away, tugging a disappointed sound from her as he did. Their gazes met, hers glazed and his dark and heavy lidded.

"I need you inside me," she pleaded unnecessarily.

He rose up onto his knees, his erection springing free as he removed his underwear. He shifted side to side to remove them completely and toss them over the side of the bed. As he did, she leaned over to his nightstand, opening the drawer and fishing out a condom. When she turned back, he held out his hand for it and she blushed.

"Can I do it?" she asked shyly. His eyebrows arched up in surprise and she began backtracking, "It's all right if you'd rather do it, I just-"

He bent down toward her, silencing her hesitation with a kiss and it was hard and full of desire, his fingers tangled in her hair once more.

"You can do it," he reassured her, whispering against her lips, "I want you to."

She tore open the wrapper as he sat back on his heels. Katara had not done this for someone in some time and the act of rolling it on, her hand sliding down the hard length of him, was more erotic than she remembered. Or maybe it was just him. Maybe it was the way he watched her, the way he grinned at her when she finished and looked up for his approval. He cupped her face to kiss her, laying her down and his hand slid under her thigh, damp with sweat, to catch her knee and hook her leg around his waist. There was no more teasing, no more waiting, and his breath hitched as he guided himself into her waiting warmth.

Katara laid beneath him, fingernails digging into his hip, pulling him in deeper. He ran his hand from her cheek to her neck, using his thumb to tilt her chin up and to the side. Her eyes fluttered closed as he dragged his lips along her throat. Aang nipped gently at her jaw and she moaned, her nails scraping across his back, knowing she was marking him, not caring. His thrusts were slow and she pushed her hand between them to touch herself. He made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl and she slid her slick fingertips around the base of his hardness. She kissed him, sucking at his bottom lip before whispering to him.

"Tell me what you want," she purred, her nose brushing against his cheek. His rhythm faltered a little before he paused, buried inside her, to look down at her and lick his swollen lip.

"I want to watch you," he said, and his voice was rough and low.

"Okay," she murmured, feeling a little self conscious but also taking savage pleasure in seeing what she was doing to him. He wrapped his arms around her to shift onto his back, reversing their positions without pulling out of her. She sank further down onto him, adjusting to the fullness with a groan, shifting her hips. His fingertips dug into her thighs.

She moved slowly at first, her head tilted back slightly, eyes closed, pushing her hair away from her face. His palms skated from her thighs to her breasts and she sighed, laying her hands over his and squeezing. When she finally looked down at him she was surprised to see he was looking at her face, not her body as she expected.

There was undisguised need in his dark eyes and when she breathed his name he moaned and closed them, arching his hips up off of the bed slightly to meet her. As if this were some sort of unspoken challenge, Katara twined her fingers in his and leaned down over him, stretching his arms up, pinning them over his head. He chuckled and she felt the vibration of it in her chest. Aang pressed his open mouth to her throat almost defiantly, his teeth grazing her skin, sucking the spot lightly, then kissed his way up to the point of her chin. She met his parted lips with hers and he caught her moan in his mouth, returning it. She released his hands, clutching fistfuls of the sheets.

"How did you make me think I was in charge all this time?" she gasped out, and she felt him smile before he gripped her hips and pulled her down harder. She let herself grind lasciviously against him, practically beyond thought, her awareness shrinking down to his hands and how hard and heavy he was inside her. She pressed her hands against his chest to brace herself, low panting pushed out of her as she worked, drowned out as his breathing became louder more ragged. She opened her eyes to look into his and he choked out a gasp, the sound low and a little helpless. He groaned her name and she nodded.

"It's okay," she managed, "Me, too."

He moaned and it was harsher than was used to hearing from him, low and longing. As if he were unable to stop himself he drove his hips up to thrust into her, his movements urgent and faltering. She tensed around him as she came and tipped her head back, her hair cascading down her back, fingers drifting between her legs to touch them both, almost absently.

Katara lay limp on top of him, damp skin on his, both of them breathing heavily. She buried her face in the pillow and his neck, breathing in his scent, her limbs heavy. His fingers were tangled in her hair, his other hand resting near her tailbone. He dragged his fingertips languorously up her spine and she groaned, the echoes of her orgasm still radiating through her. Her eyes drifted shut and she turned her head just enough to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'm never getting up," she mumbled, her lips and nose brushing his face, "You're going to be trapped under me forever."

"The horror," he hissed theatrically and she laughed. After a moment she released a resentful sigh.

"All right. If I don't get up now I'm going to fall asleep."

"Stay the night," he said with a shrug, tracing small circles between her shoulders. Katara would ordinarily have responded to this offer with self conscious confirmations and apologies but it sounded so appealing that she opened her eyes and immediately shifted to the side to roll off of him.

"Okay," she yawned, stretching.

He kissed her on the temple, "I'll be right back," he said, "Can I bring you anything?" She shook her head and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, retreating to the bathroom to clean up.

When he returned she was already half asleep, the blankets pulled up, her breathing deep and steady. He climbed into bed beside her, sliding beneath the covers. This part, at least, was somewhat familiar to them and she moved into the space he made, a contented sigh escaping her when he curled around her, arm around her waist, chest pressed to her back.

There were a dozen questions he wanted to ask her, things he wanted to say to erase any vagueness between them. But laying warm and sleepy against her, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew he might only have tonight and he didn't want to squander the opportunity. He didn't want to pass up the chance to fall asleep with someone in his arms who cared about him. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and closed his eyes. He hoped she cared.


	8. Morning

Katara was disoriented for a moment when she woke up. She glanced around, her eyes bleary and crusted with the makeup she'd slept in. She rolled over and instantly remembered.

Aang slept beside her on his back, his face turned away from her, chest rising and falling gently. She had woken up next to him enough times over the last couple of months and ordinarily she would have moved closer, wedged herself in the cross of his arm and pressed herself against him. She wanted to, wanted to curl into his warmth and let herself doze off again for a while. Instead she drew in on herself, vacillating. His outstretched hand lay between them on the bed. She thought about waking him but didn't.

The events of the previous night tumbled through her mind and she seized on the conversation they'd had on the couch. He told her he liked her, which she'd found endearing at the time and had been enough to encourage her to throw herself at him. Now, in the light of day, it was maddeningly vague. She liked Aang, but she liked a lot of things. She liked wool socks, too. What was that even supposed to _mean_? They never really talked about how he navigated personal relationships alongside his work and she wondered about it now. When was the last time he even had a girlfriend? There had been a sense of urgency to his actions the previous night, the way he touched her and held her. She wondered what he expected.

He'd kicked the blankets partially off in his sleep and she could see his bare leg. Katara had admired his legs often enough but for the first time she noticed his scar, the smooth line running vertically across his knee cap. She hadn't registered it at the time but the date on the second letter in the album had only been five years prior. It was glaringly obvious to her now that all of the tragedy in his life had been more recent than she assumed when he first mentioned it on the balcony at Beifong Manor. Aang had been so open with her and she was moved by it, but she could also feel the weight of that trust and it filled her with misgivings. How long had it been since he talked to someone about his career, about his parents? He had talked to her about it. Because he liked her.

How could she possibly explain him to people? As soon as she had this thought she felt cruel for letting it pass through her mind. He was so genuine and kind and it seemed profoundly unfair. Katara rose carefully from the bed and gathered up her dress from where she'd left it on the floor. She slipped out of the room.

xXXx

Aang woke up when Katara got out of bed. He thought she was going to the bathroom. Instead, he heard her creep down the stairs and lay staring at the ceiling, listening to her leave.

He couldn't decide whether he was disappointed in her for doing it or himself for being hurt. Probably it was both.

He wondered if she had paid him.

If she had, it meant she'd either disastrously misinterpreted the evening, or was trying to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened. If she hadn't, it probably meant she was as confused as he was. He wasn't sure which answer was more complicated. Rolling onto his side, he looked at his nightstand.

There was nothing there and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He got out of bed.

Aang tried to go about his morning. He did yoga. He ate breakfast and did the dishes. He put away the photo album they'd left on the coffee table. He had an appointment scheduled for that night and cancelled it before noon, feeling too distracted.

It was a relief when Toph called and told him she was on her way over. He occupied himself by helping her with her latest piece, which required building an oddly shaped frame and pouring a slab. This took the better part of the day. They talked about the project but little else, which was how Toph typically operated when she was focused on the manual labor aspect of her art (and he thought she might also be a little hungover). It felt good to do something with his hands, to distract himself. When they were finished and had cleaned up, Toph sat beside the frame, waiting for the concrete to dry and patting the surface occasionally with a trowel. Feeling slightly neurotic but wanting to stay busy, Aang decided to work out. At length, Toph spoke.

"My mom was happy to see you last night. She told me to tell you so because she was so busy she didn't get a chance to talk to you much."

He stood at the barre doing squats, "That's nice of her." Toph rolled her eyes.

"She would not shut up about Katara," she added, lying flat on her back. "She kept mentioning what an attractive couple you were. If only she knew."

Aang sighed and retrieved his phone from the workbench, turning on a timer and lowering himself into plank, resting on his forearms. Staring down at the time ticking away in front of him, he wondered what he should do. Text her? Call? Pretend nothing had happened and wait? If this had been casual he would have sent her a text, told her he'd had fun.

Nothing about last night felt casual to him.

A minute went by and he scratched his nose absently.

"What are you doing over there?" Toph asked, her boredom making her irritated.

"Plank."

"You are such a nerd," she muttered. Her stomach growled, "What time is it?"

Aang was already staring at his phone and answered immediately, "6:30."

"Shouldn't you be walking out the door for something right now?"

He shook his head even though she couldn't see, "I had something tonight but I cancelled it."

Toph frowned, "Why?"

Aang let his knees touch the floor and rose up, sitting back on his heels. He ran his hand over his head to flick away the sweat beaded in his hair.

"I slept with Katara last night."

"So?" Toph asked, her tone disdainful, "Did you sprain something?"

"Toph, I wasn't working last night."

Her mouth made an O shape but nothing came out. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally Aang stood and crossed the room to where his pull up bar was mounted and hopped up to grab it.

"You're an idiot," Toph said from behind him.

"I know," he grunted.

"I knew this was going to happen to you someday. So, what…is she your girlfriend now or what?"

"I have no idea," he muttered, "I haven't talked to her and she left without saying anything this morning."

"Wow. Shitty."

He completed his set and dropped to the floor, "I don't blame her. It was a confusing night." he sighed.

"I like her. But if I want to see her I don't think I can stay in the industry. It would destroy her career if anyone found out. Maybe that's why she hasn't said anything?" He scrubbed his knuckles across the back of his head, "I don't know."

Toph stood, "All right," she gestured toward the door, "Let's go get noodles and talk about your stupid feelings."

He sighed and hung his head in defeat, "Thanks, Toph."


	9. Confess

Katara sat at the table in Sokka and Suki's kitchen. Even for a Monday the day felt exceptionally long. She'd taken out her phone during lunch, on the verge of texting Aang before she realized what she was doing. She sent a message to Suki, instead, as if that was what she'd intended to do all along. It had proven to be a good choice, in retrospect. Suki invited her over after work and, not particularly feeling like sitting alone in her condo, Katara took her up on it. Suki was standing at the counter, holding a glass of wine and looking out the window.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" she asked, turning to face her, "It's Sokka's cheat day, we'll probably order a couple of pizzas when he gets home."

Katara shook her head, "Thanks for the invitation but I can't."

Suki frowned, "Work?" she asked.

"No, I'm just…kind of distracted. I think I'm going to go for a swim before it gets too late. I haven't been in a while."

Suki crossed her arms over her chest and squinted at her knowingly, "You're seeing someone," she said.

Katara looked away. Suki's perceptiveness would have been annoying if she weren't so often right. The two of them had known each other for years, since they were teenagers, and Katara often thought she read her better than her own brother could. Suki joined her at the table and folded her hands in front of her, businesslike.

"Tell me everything," she said. When Katara didn't respond right away, Suki laughed, "Come on, isn't this what you came over here for, to vent about your personal life? You might as well start talking. I can guess, if you want, it's not hard." She ticked the items off on her fingers, "He's tall and dark haired and handsome and fit and he probably has tattoos."

Katara was about to retort but stopped short, surprised, "Yeah, actually."

Suki waved her off, "You have a type. Does he have that shaggy hairdo you like, too?"

"No, this one shaves his head," Katara said, smiling.

"Well, that's a departure for you. How long have you been seeing him?"

"Um…" Katara considered for a moment, "A couple of months."

"Are you exclusive?" Suki asked, leaning back in her chair.

Katara groaned and tilted her head back, then sat up again and huffed out a frustrated breath, "It's complicated. No. I mean, I'm not seeing anyone else but I also wouldn't have the time even if I wanted to."

"But you don't want to," Suki pointed out.

Katara blushed and pushed her hair back, looking away. Suki gave a satisfied smile.

"What does he do?" she asked.

Katara sighed, "He's a massage therapist," she muttered, glad of her technically true escape.

"Hmm. That's handy but not quite what I picture for you." Suki smirked, "How handsome are we talking about?"

Looking a little pained, Katara held her hands out in front of her, "He looks like a sculpture. It's ridiculous."

"Do you think it could get serious?" Suki stood and went to the counter to refill her glass.

Katara leaned with her chin on her fist, her gaze unfocused, "I thought it wouldn't and now I'm not sure what's going on. The whole thing is so confusing at this point."

"What's confusing, exactly?"

Katara bit her lip, hesitating. "Can you keep a secret? For the rest of your life?"

Suki let out a surprised laugh and grinned, "You know I can. What is it?"

Katara drew in a deep breath, "Remember that joke we kept making? About how I had so little free time I should just hire escorts?"

"Oh, yeah," Suki replied. Her laughter faded, eyes widening when Katara stared back at her, unblinking. She hurried back to the table.

"Katara! Are you serious?!"

She nodded and sighed, "He's the fourth one I've worked with and-"

"Katara, are you _serious_?!" Suki repeated.

"Completely." Suki drained her glass as Katara continued, "And we were _right_ when we were joking about it, Suki. All of the stuff we thought would be perfect about it – it's totally true. I'm the priority, they're all good looking and in good shape, we both know what we're there for so there's no drama. And I have the money so that's not an issue. But this guy…I started seeing him and we just clicked right away. He's funny and sweet and smart and…I don't know what to do."

"So…wait," Suki began, stopped, then started again, "Wait. So you're not actually _dating_ this guy."

Now that all of this was out in the open, the words spilled from her in a rush and Katara threw her hands up in aggravation, "I don't know _what's_ going on any more, Suki! We went out on Saturday night - just went out together, on a date, I wasn't paying him. And then I slept with him and I have no idea what that means! He sent me this text last night." She pulled out her phone and scrolled through it before passing it to Suki.

"I cancelled all of my appointments for this week," Suki read aloud. She set the phone down, "Woah."

"Right?!" Katara replied.

"Is he…is he going to quit his job for you?"

"I don't know," Katara groaned, exasperated, "And I don't know if I _want_ him to do that."

Suki shrugged, "He can't do this for the rest of his life, right? He's going to stop sometime." She heaved a sigh through her nose, considering, "Did you guys talk about all of this after?"

Katara drummed her fingers on the table, looking embarrassed, "I left before he woke up the next morning."

Suki shook her head, "If that's the case, you should be talking to him, not me."

"What am I supposed to say to him? It's been so long since I've had a conversation like this with someone." she frowned, "I can't even get past wondering if it would be a huge mistake for me to date him at all."

"Because you're worried about what he does for a living? Or because you're worried about getting attached to someone?"

Katara looked down at her hands, avoiding Suki's eyes. She didn't reply.

xXXx

The parking lot of Piandao Combat was busy when Aang pulled in. His schedule had shifted around when Katara became a regular client and although he'd managed to make it to the gym for class, this was the first time he'd had an opportunity to come to an open mat for sparring in nearly a month. He needed time to clear his head and focus on something else and jiu jitsu seemed like the best possible choice.

He still had not heard from Katara. Typically she confirmed her weekend appointments on Mondays and he couldn't decide if it was a good sign or a bad one that she hadn't contacted him.

A chorus of lively hellos greeted him in the locker room when he entered. He rounded the corner of the row of lockers he usually used. Two of his regular sparring partners were there already. One of them - a friendly guy a few years older than him and the youngest black belt at the gym - was talking animatedly. The other, a pale, perpetually sullen-looking brown belt, was quiet and had his arms folded across his chest, a water bottle sitting between his legs. They stopped their conversation abruptly when they saw Aang.

" _Heeeey_ , look who it is," the chatty one said, slinging his leg over the bench to face Aang as he passed. He tugged at his blue sparring trunks and smoothed his palms over his thighs, "We were starting to wonder if you were ever coming back."

"Yeah, we missed being rear naked choked constantly," the other drawled, taking a swig of his water.

Aang chuckled, setting his bag down, "I missed you guys, too," he said. He pulled his shirt off and turned his back to them.

"Dude. I was just about to ask what's been keeping you away but I'm guessing it's a girl."

Brow furrowed, Aang twisted around to look at the mirror behind him. His back was marred with red scratches.

"Oh, shit," he murmured. There was laughter in response but it was good-natured. Aang shook his head, still examining his reflection.

"I'm not even sure when that happened." He strained to remember and then abruptly did, vividly, a moment when Katara had been laying beneath him, her leg locked around his waist. She'd gasped sharply right in his ear so he hadn't completely registered her nails scraping across his skin. He realized he was blushing and turned away from the mirror.

"Well, that's good news for us," the one in blue said, pulling his hair back into a short ponytail, "I like you off your game. Maybe I'll actually get you to tap today."

Aang took his rash guard from his bag and pulled it on, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms experimentally, "Yeah, I've been lazy. I'm going to be a pushover."

"That means he's been doing yoga and cardio every day and he's going to strangle us both," the gloomy one muttered in an aside to his companion on the bench, who nodded and stood.

"Yeah, probably," he agreed, "Come on, Zuko, it's five 'till. Glad you're back, Aang."

"Thanks, Sokka."


	10. Eelhound Coffee

Katara sat in her car, hesitating in the parking lot outside the coffee shop. She'd turned the engine off but the keys still dangled from the ignition. It was raining and she didn't have an umbrella.

It was impulse as much as anything that made her text him that morning, and almost as soon as she hit send she wished she could take it back, or that he would ignore her, or tell her no. Instead, he agreed to meet her for coffee. Even with a few days to think about it, she still had no idea what she was going to say to him. She stared out her office window that morning and thought about Aang, and all she knew for sure was that she wanted to see him.

The afternoon passed quickly and feeling too anxious to wait it out at home, she left work a bit early and went to the gym to use the pool.

Katara liked the straightforwardness of being in the water, the purpose. She liked the simplicity of swimming laps, the satisfaction of exhausting herself. She sometimes thought the only truly useful thing she'd taken away from high school was her time with the swim team, where she learned to escape from stress into the single-mindedness of the pool.

In the shower, tired and washing the chlorine out of her hair, she thought about her last serious boyfriend, about the last text he sent her. It was days before their anniversary and he told her he was breaking up with her. When she asked why he replied, "Do you even realize we haven't seen each other in two weeks?" She hadn't but was not surprised, either.

She thought of her mother.

Standing in front of her open locker, Katara found she had not brought a change of clothing in her gym bag. She debated going back home to change out of the suit she'd worn to work. She had time. In the end she elected not to.

It was 5:56.

She used her jacket to shield herself from the rain and hurried into the coffee shop.

Aang sat at a table in the corner; Katara couldn't recall ever seeing him dressed so casually in public. In jeans and an orange hooded sweatshirt he looked younger and more vulnerable, somehow. His hood was pulled up and speckled with rain that had already begun to dry, his foot bouncing nervously. He stopped when he saw she'd walked in, rubbing his palms on his thighs, and stood when she approached.

"Hi," she said, offering an awkward smile. He returned it, looking equally out of sorts. He gestured to his umbrella beside him on the floor.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he suggested.

"Sure."

They had to walk close together for both of them to stay beneath the umbrella. Katara kept her hands shoved into her pockets. They walked aimlessly, down the hill away from the coffee shop, toward a nearby park. They had taken nighttime strolls in this neighborhood before - Aang's house was only a few miles away and they had walked to dinner at Narook's a couple of times - so there was a familiar quality to their route. The rain was steady but it was warm and the air smelled like wet grass.

"I'm sorry I left without saying anything on Sunday," she said, "I sort of panicked."

"It's okay."

"And I'm sorry I never responded to your text," she went on, "I…I didn't know what to say."

Aang shook his head, "No, I'm the one who should be apologizing for that. That was too big to drop on you over a text. I don't know what I expected you to say, anyway. I should have called or something." He glanced at her, "I wasn't sure you would pick up."

She nodded. He was quiet and she could tell he was waiting for her to respond. She took a deep breath.

"Why did you cancel your appointments for this week?" she asked.

Aang hesitated. Privately, he thought the better question was why he felt the need to tell her he'd done it. It seemed like an important gesture at the time but in hindsight it felt a little like an ultimatum.

"I didn't mean to pressure you or anything," he explained, "I just wanted to give us both some breathing room."

"That doesn't really answer my question," she said.

He frowned slightly, brow furrowed, "Doesn't it?"

She shrugged, "You could have made time to talk to me without clearing your entire week. So why do it?" Her tone wasn't accusing, just curious, as if she didn't expect him to have an answer. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Probably the same reason you panicked on Sunday morning." he mused. She nodded, looking down at the sidewalk.

They reached the end of the block and rounded the corner, making their way slowly around the perimeter of the empty park. The baseball diamond was muddy and Katara reached out to drag her hand along the chain link fence as they passed, water dripping from her fingertips.

"You said you wanted to talk. Talk to me," Aang said quietly.

"I am," she replied, though her tone was clipped. He shook his head but remained silent. Katara flicked the water from her fingers and returned her hand to her pocket.

There was a large, leafy tree in the corner of the park and it was dry underneath. She stopped and leaned against the trunk. Aang closed the umbrella and stood on the dry patch of sidewalk, facing her. He put his empty hand in his pocket. The sun was still out but it was overcast and the light where they were standing was poor.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I'm a little rusty at this sort of thing."

He sighed, "Yeah, me too. I didn't mean to leave things so vague with you on Saturday."

She ran her fingers nervously through her hair, "Say what you wanted to say that night, then," she suggested, her voice small.

Aang hunched his shoulders a little, biting the inside of his lip, hand sneaking beneath his hood to rub the back of his neck nervously. He thought about it, his eyes downcast and unfocused, trying to recall what he could from those drowsy, vulnerable moments just before he'd fallen asleep. When he finally spoke, his gaze was still distant but his voice was clear and firm.

"I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time," he said. He straightened and looked into her eyes again, "And I spend so much time presenting this - " he gestured toward himself with a sweeping motion across his chest, "All this external stuff. I didn't realize how lonely I was." Afraid of how needy this sounded, he looked away from her and back, embarrassed. Apology softened his voice when he spoke next.

"Listen, if the other night meant nothing to you, that's fine. We're both adults." His gaze was penetrating and sad, "I might have completely misread this situation. Maybe I'm seeing something that isn't there."

Katara understood what he was doing immediately, that he was giving her an out. Part of her was grateful and wanted to seize the dishonesty of it. She imagined doing it and the flimsy transparency of the lie made her uncomfortable even in her own head. She licked her lips, opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. Her face felt hot and resentment flared in her chest, though she wasn't sure at what, exactly.

"You know," she grumbled, "this is why I started seeing you to begin with. To avoid conversations like this."

He frowned, "Just because you avoid talking about your feelings doesn't mean they aren't there." She rolled her eyes but he went on, his voice edged in frustration, "You told me the first time I worked with you how hard it is for you to connect with people. I know what it's like to lose people you care about and - "

"Oh, stop. Why would you even bring that up?"

"Because that's what this is about, Katara!" he countered, having finally lost his patience. He sounded crestfallen, as if this should have been obvious. Aang gestured outward, into the open air. "You throw yourself into your work to fill a void and then use it as an excuse. Because it's easier than admitting you're scared."

She folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him.

"You are so out of line right now I can't even - "

"Katara, I've been there," he said, cutting her off. He sounded tired, "Believe me. If I hadn't hurt my knee I might still be there."

She huffed out a frustrated breath and put her hands behind her back, leaning against them, the bark of the tree rough on her palms. Frowning, she looked past him, out toward the street. The rain was falling harder and the breeze was growing cool. Her jacket was still damp and she was starting to get chilly. She found herself wishing they'd stayed indoors and curled her fingers around her upper arms, hugging herself.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "About all of this."

He shook his head, "I'm not. I mean," he put his hand back into his pocket, "I'm sorry things got so screwed up between us but I'm not sorry we spent the night together. I'm not sorry about anything that happened that night." He glanced behind him, at the rain falling into the road. "It's really coming down. Should we head back?" he asked. She nodded.

Under the umbrella once more, they began making their way out of the park. They had just reached the sidewalk that bordered the road when the wind kicked up. Katara shivered. Aang glanced at her and stopped, turning to face her. He held the umbrella out toward her.

"Hold this, please," he said.

She took the umbrella from him, his fingers brushing hers. It was the first time he'd touched her since Saturday night. He unzipped his sweatshirt and pulled it off. She was about to rebuff him when he put his arms around her to drape it over her shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him and he pulled up the hood onto her head with a small, affectionate smile. He took the umbrella back from her.

"Thanks," she said softly, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She put her hands in the pockets to pull the sweatshirt closed around herself, "Aren't you going to be cold?" He was only wearing a t shirt and she could see goosebumps on his arms.

He shrugged, "We don't have far to walk."

She looked up at him, into his soft grey eyes. He'd been so honest with her, he always had. The least she could do was return the favor, even if it hurt him.

"I like you, too," she blurted. It sounded so juvenile that she smiled, simultaneously embarrassed by her choice of words and relieved to have made some sort of declarative statement, finally. Aang chuckled, running his hand bashfully over his head.

"Okay," he said, nodding slowly. Her smile faltered and he tilted his head slightly, watching her, waiting.

"You're a sweet guy, Aang. And I do really like you, but - "

" - but what I do for a living is a problem," he finished for her.

She bit her lip, "I know it's not fair to you. It's just, if my partners at the firm found out, it would be a disaster. And that's not even getting to how I would deal with it personally."

"I understand," he said with a sigh of resignation, "I wouldn't expect you to risk your career for someone you've only known a couple of months. I know how important your work is to you." A moment of silence passed between them and he cleared his throat, "What if I quit?"

Speculation that this offer was coming had not prepared her for actually hearing it. She wasn't sure what surprised her more: the question itself or how reserved he sounded when he asked it. She balked.

"Aang, I don't…Isn't your work important to you?"

He looked up toward the umbrella above them, "It's fulfilling and I'm making a lot of money. But it's also exhausting. And isolating."

A rueful smile flashed across her face, "And illegal," she put in. He let out a weary sigh.

"Don't even get me started on what a pain in the ass that part of it is." He gestured to her, "You worked hard to get where you are today. All I did was - " he stopped short, his cheeks reddening, "Anyway. I think what I do is important but I have to admit, cancelling my whole week was kind of a relief. I'm ready for a break. And if things don't work out between us, there's nothing to stop me from going back to it."

Katara was still a little stunned, "What would you do about your other clients?"

He rubbed his jaw, considering, "I'd be making a lot of calls tomorrow, I guess. Some of them already have other people they work with besides me. The ones who don't, well…I have a few people I can recommend who I trust." He frowned, "It would be a hard day."

"And then what?"

"Well," he said slowly, "The trainers at my gym have been offering to rent me some space to do massage there. I could do that. I have some money set aside, I can afford to take a little time and figure it out."

She shook her head, "I can't ask you to do this for me," she said.

"You're not asking me to do anything," he said, "I'm offering to do it and I wouldn't be offering if I didn't mean it." He held his free hand out at his side, "Don't you want to know? I'd really like to see where this goes." Her gaze dropped away from his and he sighed heavily.

"Tell me what you're thinking. Please," he urged gently. She made a little frustrated sound and looked up at him.

"I don't want to turn your life upside-down, Aang," she pleaded.

They stared at each other without speaking. He reached out and caught her hand in his, looking down as he ran his thumb across her knuckles. When he spoke again his voice was low.

"Katara, I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. But I'd rather take a risk and find out than do nothing and never know."

Their eyes met again. Everything seemed so quiet, suddenly. The coffee shop up the street was bustling with people and the traffic was a few paces away but they were the only people standing on the corner.

Katara stepped forward and kissed him. It took a split second for him to respond and the umbrella listed slightly to the side before he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She pressed her palms against his chest. When they broke the kiss, he opened his eyes to look down at her. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized how hard his was pounding.

"You're right," she confessed in a whisper, "I'm scared."

"Yeah," he breathed. "Me, too."

She kissed him again. The rain fell around them.

xXXx

Katara woke to the chirping of the alarm on her phone. She rose up to her side on her elbow and shut it off, then laid back with a tiny groan of protest, slinging her arm over her face. She permitted herself a few seconds to sulk before she turned her head to look at the other side of the bed.

Aang slept beside her. Her alarm hadn't woken him and as she looked at him, she thought about Sunday morning, just a few days prior. She got carefully out of bed and tiptoed out of the room to the bathroom, taking her phone with her.

He was still asleep when she returned, slipping beneath the blankets again. She moved closer to him, laying across his arm and tucking herself into his warmth, her head resting on his shoulder. He stirred and pulled her closer.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice low and groggy.

"Six," she replied. He let out a soft grunt and kissed her forehead, then reached over the side of the bed for the bottle of water he always kept there.

"Do you have time to stay for breakfast? I can throw something together." He took a drink and passed the bottle to her. She swallowed a mouthful of water and grinned mischievously, propping herself up on her elbow so that she could see his face.

"Actually, I just left a message for our secretary and told her I'm going to be in late today."

He arched a suggestive eyebrow, "Oh, really? Do you have plans for the morning?"

"Well, I was hoping to spend it in bed with my boyfriend but I certainly didn't tell her that." She rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, stretching lazily.

Aang gave a surprised chuckle, then shifted onto his side and buried his face in her neck, "How specific are these plans, exactly?" he murmured against her skin. She sighed and curled into him.

"To be honest, the only thing specific I had in mind was getting breakfast later at that diner by my place," she teased.

He groaned appreciatively, "The one with the good cinnamon rolls? I'm in."

She laughed as he nipped gently at her shoulder, "If you need some direction I'm sure I can come up with something."

"Great," he said, kissing his way down to her sternum, "I'm all yours."


	11. Fight

The lights were blazing.

Their relationship was different now. Better. But practically speaking, not many things changed in the first weeks. Katara carved time out of her schedule to see Aang - more than before, as much as she could manage. They spent nights at his house. They ate dinner late and went to brunch on the weekends. The notable exception was the dimmer switch in his bedroom. Before, he kept the lights low. Now they wanted to see each other.

It seemed some of their most intimate conversations happened in darkness. Late at night, they would lay with their legs tangled together, whispering.

With all of the lights on it was impossible to hide anything.

Aang reclined in bed, arching his back momentarily to stretch his hips. He wiped the sweat from his upper lip and folded his hands under his head. Katara lay on her stomach, watching him. She traced the lines of the tattoo on his arm compulsively with her index finger.

"That was fun," he said, shooting a grin in her direction, "You know, if you started doing yoga with me you'd be even more limber than you already are."

She stuck her tongue out at him, "I'll stick with the pool, thanks." Her brow furrowed and she wrinkled her nose. "Though I guess it wouldn't be a terrible idea just so I can keep up with you."

"No, come on."

Katara buried her face in the pillow for a moment, embarrassed. Aang rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow.

"What?" he asked.

She sighed and flipped onto her back, "Nothing," she said with a tiny shake of her head.

He extended his arm to poke her in the side with the tip of his finger. She shied away with a squeak and he chuckled. "Tell me," he hissed in an exaggerated whisper.

Katara huffed out a breath, eyes fixed on the ceiling, "I don't know I guess I'm just…worried you'll get bored."

Now it was his turn to scoff, "Katara, we've only been together a few weeks. You can't possibly be thinking about that already."

"Honestly, I've been thinking about it since day one," she mumbled.

"Really? Why didn't you say something if it's been bothering you?"

She shrugged, "I didn't want you to feel like I was holding it against you, the fact that, you know…"

"…I used to have sex professionally?" he finished, and the bluntness of having it voiced aloud make her wrinkle her nose in discomfort. He sat up, his legs folded in front of him, facing her. "You can say it, Katara. It's just us here."

She blushed, "Sorry, I just don't want to make you feel bad."

His face slid into a neutral expression and he ran his tongue over his teeth, behind his lips.

"Why would I feel bad?" he asked flatly.

"I'm not saying you should or anything!" she explained quickly, sitting up, as well. "I guess I'm just projecting."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, baffled.

She took a deep breath, "Sorry," she repeated. "I'm explaining myself badly."

He leaned back on his hands. "I think you're explaining yourself pretty well," he said, his tone deceptively casual, edged in irritation. Now getting a little annoyed herself, Katara folded her arms across her chest.

"Not everyone could do what you did. I don't think I'm out of line suggesting I wouldn't have been comfortable with it."

He shrugged, "It's just a little odd for you to be so delicate about it now. Seems kind of hypocritical."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not trying to be delicate I'm just…" she looked away, "You know what, we should stop talking about this."

He gestured to her, "No, go ahead. Say what you need to say."

She fished through the blankets for her underwear and stepped off of the bed to pull them on, still avoiding his eyes. "I'm compartmentalizing," she said, "I'm trying not to think about how much more experienced you are than me. It's a little intimidating. And," she went on, raising her voice a little as he ramped up to reply, "it's not about what you used to do for a living. I just don't want you to feel like I'm holding it over your head or guilt tripping you about how many women you've been with. That's all."

"Oh." He deflated a bit, his back rounding as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Because, I mean… It's a lot, right?"

He cocked an eyebrow, "Do you really want to talk about this right now?"

She hugged herself, shrugging, "Would it be any less awkward some other time?"

He took a deep breath and looked up toward the ceiling. "I have had sex with a lot of people, yes." When she didn't say anything he let his gaze return to hers, "I don't have a number for you or anything," he added.

"If you did would you tell me?"

He considered for a moment. "Yes."

"Can I ask you something that is related to the work?" she asked, encouraged by his frankness. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

"Sure."

"When you would meet with a client," she began, putting her knee up on the edge of the bed, "Did you - " her gaze wandered away again, "I'm just wondering if the expectation was _always_ sex or…"

"No. Or I guess, I should clarify: you're asking if sex with penetration was always the expectation, right?" She nodded, her face hot, hoping he would ignore the fact that she was blushing furiously at this point. He shook his head.

"Not always. There were some clients I never…" He cleared his throat and she thought he might have been blushing a bit, too. "Yeah. Different people wanted different things. That's why I kept notes on my regulars."

Her eyes widened, "Did you really?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you what yours said so don't even bother asking. They weren't unflattering or anything, they were all technical and they were in shorthand so no one would know what they were about if they saw them somehow."

"Huh," she breathed out, hand on her hip, looking away. She ran her fingers through her hair, biting the inside of her lip. Her eyebrows knit together, "I just realized…" she raised her gaze again to look him in the eye, "You keep saying _people_."

He was definitely blushing now and her eyes widened.

"Did - did you have male clients?"

He cleared his throat again and licked his lips, hesitating. His eyes skipped away from her and back, "A few," he conceded.

"Is that a number you can give me?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, sure. Uh…most recently I had one regular client who was a guy but the historic total…" he jutted his chin out slightly, blowing a breath out and up toward his nose. He ticked the numbers off on his fingers with his thumb, "Four. Over the last two years. No, sorry, five. There was one I only saw once." Katara ran both hands through her hair, turning away and back.

"I - " She shook her head, "I don't know what to say," she mumbled.

He stood to retrieve his shorts from the floor and pull them on, "I was afraid this would freak you out," he said.

"I'm not freaked out!" she sputtered. He let out a single, mirthless laugh.

"You pretty obviously are," he said, gesturing toward her. "I knew I needed to tell you at some point, I just hadn't figured out the best way to do it yet."

She put her hands on her hips. "How about 'Hey, Katara, I know this might surprise you but did you know I - '" she cut herself off, covering her mouth with her hand for a moment, finally folding it into a loose fist to bite her thumbnail. Her eyes flicked toward the bed and back to him. He groaned and tipped his head back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"Please don't ask me for details, Katara." He straightened to face her again, "Believe me, if I thought for even a second it would turn you on I would tell you everything, but I know it's just going to weird you out."

"I'm just," she shook her head, "I can't…" She swallowed and started again, fighting to sound as diplomatic and neutral as possible, "I am just very surprised," she concluded slowly.

He sighed heavily, "What do you want to know?" he asked.

Stalling was only drawing out the discomfort, but she couldn't help it. She pinched her lips together and crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Have you _dated_ men in the past? It's fine if you have, obviously! I'm just…" she trailed off.

"Not really. Nothing serious, anyway," he said with a shrug. "And as far as my client base was concerned it was rare for me to meet a guy I felt like I could work with. It's never been my preference so I didn't feel like I was the best return on investment for them. There are plenty of guys out there who work exclusively with men already, anyway. And they do a better job."

She nodded slowly, her gaze unfocused and resting a few feet out in front of her.

"This makes me wonder if any of the other guys I worked with had male clients," she mused.

"Well, I know Jet works exclusively with women but - " her eyes snapped back up to his and he stopped, realizing what he'd said.

"How did you know I worked with Jet?" she asked suspiciously, and he winced, "Have you been going through my phone or something?"

"No, no!" He held his hands up defensively, palms toward her. "I swear, I would never. I just guessed. We had some crossover on our client lists so I sort of know him. When you mentioned someone made you turn off your phone I figured it was him."

Her eyes narrowed, "And you confirmed this how, exactly?"

He balked and lowered his hands, knowing there was no way out of this. "I…may have texted him?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" she exploded, "What right did you have?"

"I didn't mention you specifically!" he replied, somewhat lamely. Katara rolled her eyes and glared at him.

"For as much as you seem to value the privacy of your clients that seems pretty disrespectful of mine."

He threw his hands up, "It wasn't just about you, Katara." She scoffed, turning her face stubbornly away from him, "Honestly!" he continued, "I was serious that day when I told you I thought it was inconsiderate of your safety, and if he was doing it to you he was probably doing it to his other clients, too. It pissed me off." He crossed his arms, scowling, digging his own fingertips into his ribs. He was still a little sweaty and now it was making him uncomfortable. "I can't say I was surprised, either. The guy is such a jackass."

Katara gave a brittle laugh, nodding, "I get it now," she said. "You were jealous."

"Oh, please," he muttered, bending to pick up his shirt. He walked out of the room. She gaped at the empty doorway for a split second before snatching her clothes from the floor. She tugged on her pants and stalked after him, down the stairs, putting on her bra as she went.

Aang had retreated to the kitchen and was leaning against the counter, his arms folded, glaring at nothing. Katara stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

"Don't walk away from me in the middle of a conversation," she snapped. "I don't put up with that from my colleagues, I certainly won't put up with it from my boyfriend."

His lips were slightly parted and he shifted his jaw from side to side before he closed his mouth to huff out a derisive breath through his nose.

"Is this a conversation or an argument?" he asked. She frowned but didn't respond. He held his empty hands out at his sides. "What do you want me to say, Katara? That I'm sorry I sent Jet that text? That I'm sorry I know who Jet is at all?"

"No, but it would be nice if you could acknowledge that it was presumptuous of you, at least, instead of hiding under some sanctimonious excuse." She put her shirt on, "I thought we knew each other better than this," she muttered.

He looked away and ran his hand over his head before he nodded slowly, biting the inside of his lip.

"What exactly are you mad about right now? This thing with Jet or the fact that I've had sex with men?" Their eyes met and she paled. Katara made a sound of irritation in her throat.

"Just keep deflecting, Aang," she said, "That's what you do when you're uncomfortable."

"Are you a therapist now, too?" he asked, impressed. She whirled around and walked out of the kitchen.

"You could certainly use one!" she called back as she went. She picked up her bag from the couch and and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Aang leaned back on the counter and sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Shit," he muttered.

x

In her condo the next day, they lay together in the darkness. The sunlight of the stolen afternoon hours was blocked out by room darkening shades. Katara answered the door in a tank top and underwear and took his hand, pulling him through the tension and awkwardness into her room. They lay together without speaking for a while, their eyes adjusting slowly, knees touching. She reached out for his hand and he twined his fingers in hers.

At last, when Aang could make out the outline of her face, he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Me, too," came the reply.


	12. Xiao

By the time Toph's first gallery show was ready, Aang and Katara had been together for almost four months.

The gallery was on the edge of downtown, in a neighborhood her mother hated. It was at the end of a street that terminated at a guardrail and a drainage ditch, across from a laundromat. The building itself had once housed a body shop and was little more than a shabby brick shell when Toph purchased it. Contractors poured clean, new concrete floors with radiant heat. In the corners of each slab were small groupings of raised dots. Toph moved through the space barefoot, using the dots to orient herself.

The walls were painted black and her art seemed to yawn out of the darkness at them. The only thing to survive the remodel was one of the bay doors at the rear of the gallery, which was open to let in the warm evening air. At first the sounds of the city filtered in, as well, but now the hum of conversation drowned out the horns honking nearby.

Aang and Katara had been there for nearly an hour. They were running interference for Toph, coming to her rescue when needed, but for the most part the opening was going well. Her mother was being kept busy by investors. Katara expected the same faces she'd seen at the benefit: older people, friends of the Beifongs, but a lot of the crowd was made up of people their own age. Friends from their school days, up and coming artists there to be seen and to network. Toph spent twenty minutes talking to a graffiti artist about collaborating on a project. To Katara's surprise, the paralegal from her office showed up with his boyfriend in tow and she took them around for a while. She was just making her way back to Aang and Toph on the other side of the gallery when the woman walked in.

Katara's first impression was of authority. She was older, probably a contemporary of Toph's parents'. Her dark hair was swept back in a severe bun, showcasing strong cheekbones. Streaks of silver ran back from her temples. Dressed completely in black and wearing no jewelry, she might have looked austere. Instead, she looked bright and vital and was on the arm of a young man probably in his early twenties. He whispered something to her as they walked in and she laughed. It was throaty and a little too loud.

Aang turned to face the rear of the gallery, toward Katara but not looking at her. He'd pulled Toph around with him and was whispering to her. He looked a little pale. Katara caught the end of their conversation as she approached.

"…why wouldn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know. My mom must have invited her. Come on, Twinkletoes. You know I would have told you if I had."

"Everything okay?" Katara asked. Aang met her eyes. She thought she saw a flash of panic but it was gone immediately. He smiled but it was tense and seemed forced.

Toph touched his arm. "Where's my mom?" He turned her in the direction of the corner of the gallery.

"Five minutes, max." Aang said, an urgent undertone in his words, "It's going to be less."

Toph walked away.

"What's going on?" Katara asked, her tone guarded and concerned. Aang took her hand and began walking slowly toward the nearby bay door. It opened onto a patio lit by strands of simple glass bulbs.

"There's someone here I'd rather not see," he said quietly.

They stepped out onto the patio together. It was mostly just an open space, a squat deck with a railing where Toph could smoke without setting off the sprinklers. Aang turned to face her and looked down into her eyes, his expression solemn.

"Sorry," he said.

"For what?" she asked.

He sighed, looking past her toward the street. "Having this weird history that you have to deal with," he muttered. Katara realized what he was trying to tell her immediately. One of his former clients was here. She was about to speak when there were footsteps on the boards.

"Goodness, you are here. I thought my eyes had deceived me for a moment."

The woman in black joined them on the patio. She'd left her date inside. Aang smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. She closed the distance and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

"How are you, darling? I arrived from Gao Ling just this morning." Katara noticed she was blushing a bit. "We made the trip by train, I haven't taken the train anywhere in ages. It's absolutely beautiful this time of year." Aang nodded toward the gallery.

"Have you seen Toph yet?" he asked, "I'm sure she'll be touched you made the time."

The woman rolled her eyes with a familiar sort of humor. "Ms. Beifong always ends up where you are at these events. Typically, the best way to find her is to find you." She gestured to Katara, "Who is this enchanting creature?" she asked. Aang took a deep breath, glancing at her.

"This is my girlfriend Katara," he said. "Katara, this is Wei Xiao Chen." He appeared to be on the verge of saying something else but stopped. Finally he said, "She's a very respected patron of the arts in Republic City."

"My, aren't you lucky young lady?" she said, though she sounded somewhat lukewarm. She took Katara's hand and patted it, "I don't know whether to congratulate you or slap you."

Katara laughed, mostly out of surprise. Aang's face reddened and he cleared his throat. The woman sighed.

"Come now, darling, of course I'm kidding." She released Katara's hand and patted Aang on the cheek. Her nails were impeccably manicured and looked like glass. She smiled at Katara. "Have you ever known a man who was so easily embarrassed? It's charming." Still looking at her she asked, "How did the two of you meet?"

"Yoga class," Aang answered. Katara did her best not to show her surprise at this lie, which wasn't the one they'd agreed on. Aang took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back. "We started talking and we just hit it off right away." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "I had to ask her out a few times but she finally said yes."

Xiao's smile widened, "How sweet." She turned her attention back to Katara and in a low voice said, "My husband was just the same, rest his soul."

"Mrs. Wei, is that you?" Toph asked, making her way out onto the patio at last. She approached from Aang's other side and he put his arm around her, his hand on the small of her back. "Thank you so much for coming."

"I wouldn't have missed it, dear. You continue to impress, as usual."

"Thank you," Toph said, her voice uncharacteristically deferential.

"These two were just telling me how they met," the older woman said, a sly smile directed at Aang. Toph smiled, too.

"I'm sure Katara didn't realize what she was getting herself into when she signed up for that yoga class," she agreed. Again, Katara had to conceal her surprise.

Xiao nodded, "I'm sure. Well," she reached out and took Toph's hands to squeeze them. "Congratulations, Ms. Beifong. I have to be going, unfortunately. We're going North tomorrow evening but I wanted to pop in while we were in town." She released her. "Katara, lovely to meet you." At last she returned her attention to Aang, "It's been far too long."

"I know," he said, "I'm sorry." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. With one last, fond smile at him, she walked past them. The young man she was with was waiting inside and offered his arm. Aang blew out a breath and turned just enough to watch her leave the building out of the corner of her eye. He skimmed his hand over his head and Katara realized he was sweating.

"You okay?" Toph asked.

"Yeah," he replied, "Will you two excuse me for a minute?" Before either of them had a chance to respond, he walked away, toward the bathrooms.

Katara was about to grill Toph for answers when she said, "Going to the bathroom together is a thing girls do. Let's do that." She hooked her arm through Katara's and marched her inside, through the crowd.

The bathrooms were single stalls but Toph ushered Katara into one with her and locked the door. The light in the room was harsh and Katara turned her back to the mirror.

"Was she one of his clients?" she whispered as soon as the door was closed.

Toph shifted uncomfortably. This was all the answer Katara needed. Her eyes widened and she moved onto her next question, "How did you know to lie about how we met?"

"He spelled it on my back," Toph said. She smiled a little, despite herself it seemed, "We have a system."

"But why use a different lie than the one we planned on?" Katara asked.

Toph frowned, "Wei Xiao Chen has nothing but time and money. Maybe he was worried she'd make trouble for you."

"Would she?" Katara asked, surprised.

"I don't know. But Aang doesn't lie unless he feels like he has to. Can't have been for no reason." She hesitated. "He hadn't told you," she said, "About her."

"No," Katara mumbled, "he's never told me about his other clients, not really."

Toph nodded slowly. "Wei Xiao Chen wasn't just a client. She was his first client."

x

The drive back to Aang's house from the gallery was quiet and a little tense. Katara wasn't sure what to say.

Aang made a move on her in bed later. He'd been so withdrawn since their encounter with Xiao that she wasn't expecting it. His hands skimmed over her body in rushed desperation, like he was searching for something. He lay on top of her, his weight pressing her into the bed, lips on her throat. When she pushed her hand between them she was surprised to find him soft beneath her touch. Aang buried his face in the pillow next to her head with an embarrassed groan.

He started to pull away but Katara put her arms around him, holding him to her, thighs tight on his hips. He relaxed against her with a heavy sigh. She ran her hands gently up and spread her fingers on the back of his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she murmured in his ear.

He didn't reply but rolled off of her onto his back, arms on the pillow above his head. He stared at the ceiling.

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's not about you."

"It's all right," she assured him.

They lay there for a moment until Katara sat up and leaned across him to reach over the side of the bed. He let his hand rest on her lower back, watching her, confused. His suit jacket was discarded on the floor and she rummaged through it. When she righted herself again, she was holding his cigarette case and lighter. She handed them off to him and laid back again, pulling the blankets up over her chest. He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You sure you don't mind?"

She shrugged, "No, go ahead."

"Thanks." He adjusted the pillows to prop himself up a bit and took a joint from the case. He shielded it from the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan with his cupped hand to light it. She rolled onto her side to look up at him. They were quiet for a while as Aang blew smoke up toward the ceiling, silent and pensive.

"How did you meet her?" she finally asked.

He reached over for the ashtray on his nightstand and set it on his abdomen. "I've known her for a long time. Since I was a teenager."

He kept his voice low even though there was no one there to hear him but her. As if he were afraid the story would escape outside if he spoke it too loudly. Katara's stomach knotted with discomfort but she nodded.

"From Beifong fundraisers," she guessed. He frowned.

"Yeah," he said, tapping the joint into the ashtray. "Her husband died about a year before my parents did." He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, "She travels all over the place and that's how it started. She wanted a travelling companion." He said the last part in a way that sounded like it was probably an imitation of Xiao, like he had heard it countless times. He shrugged.

"I was miserable, I wanted to get out of Republic City, anyway."

"How long were you with her?"

"Only a few months. She gets bored fast." He bit the inside of his lip before he went on, "She likes dancers. A washed up one was kind of her dream come true since I had a lot of free time on my hands." Katara whispered his name and he waved her off, exhaling another lungful of smoke. "Sorry," he said. She wasn't sure what he was apologizing for exactly, or to whom. He stubbed the joint out and set the ashtray aside.

"Why did you tell her we met in a yoga class?" she asked gently. He frowned.

"You're none of her business. I don't want her to know you were a client." He paused, "I don't want her to think you owe her something." At her questioning expression he explained, "It was because of her that I got into the industry."

"How?" she asked.

"She referred someone to me. One of her nieces. She was my age." He cleared his throat, "She had a spinal injury from a riding accident in college. She hadn't…she hadn't been with anyone since, you know? A couple of years. She was having a hard time." He scratched his temple, "She was sweet. And I felt like I really helped her. It was so different from my relationship with Xiao." He sighed, "She was a regular client for about six months, actually."

Katara frowned, "Did she start seeing someone else?"

Aang didn't answer for a moment. "No, she met someone." His voice was warm and quiet, "She's married now." The look in his eyes was far off. Katara sat up to shift around, laying against him, her head resting on his stomach. He gave a faint smile and she returned it. He brushed her hair back away from her face.

"Thank you," she said. "For telling me all of this."

She thought he might respond but instead he just watched her, his eyelids a little heavy. He looked into her eyes, neither of them speaking. Aang took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

"I love you," he said. Before she could respond he added, "It's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just needed to say it." He took her hand, sliding her fingers between his.

Her heartbeat felt light and fast and she held her breath, hesitating. Katara slid her arms around him and rolled onto her stomach, her chest pressed to his.

"Say it again," she whispered in his ear.

He laughed a little and kissed her on the cheek.

"I love you," he murmured.

Their hearts beat against each other.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "So much."


	13. Dinner

They pulled up to the house, parking on the street rather than in the driveway. In the interest of making a good impression, Aang had driven his car which was sleek and black with tinted windows. He turned it off and draped his wrists over the steering wheel, looking out at the house.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

"A little." He turned his attention to her, "Are you?"

"A little," she agreed. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, "It'll be fine," she said, but it sounded more like she was reassuring herself than him. He smiled and reached over for her hand, leaning toward her to kiss her.

"It'll be fine," he echoed and she nodded. She kissed him again and then a third time before resting her forehead against his.

"Look at us go," she drawled and he chuckled.

Aang was nervous. However, he would have admitted to being pleased about all of this, as well. Just under six months had passed since they first met. He knew she was protective of her family. It seemed like an important milestone that she felt secure enough in their relationship to introduce him.

Their first month together was giddy and fun. Once they were unrestrained, they spent as much time together as they pleased. They spent nights at his house and stayed up late talking. They went on dates, to dinner, to the museum, to the movies. Doing these mundane things together was so novel it was almost funny.

Once the dizzy newness wore off, their idiosyncrasies came to the fore. He could be overly accommodating, to a fault. She still tended to throw herself into her work to escape conflict. They had their first fight. He got a job.

They were figuring it out.

He kissed her on the forehead, letting his hand rest on the back of her head. "I love you," he said quietly.

She straightened and met him with another quick peck. This exchange between them was still relatively new and she smiled shyly before responding.

"I love you, too." She leaned down to retrieve the bottle of wine from under the seat. They both got out of the car and she reached out with her free hand for his as they began the trek up the driveway.

Katara's father lived just outside of the city in a modest house with few neighbors. The property was neat and well kept, with rose bushes lining the fence. Katara opened the door without knocking and entered the house.

"It's me!" she called. She removed her coat and Aang took it from her to hang on the nearby hook. He bent to untie his shoes.

"Hey, sis," a male voice said. "This is the guy, huh?"

"Yes," he heard Katara say firmly, as if she were reminding him of something. Aang straightened, about to introduce himself, but the words froze in his throat when he saw Sokka standing in front of him. Sokka's eyes narrowed.

"Sokka," Katara began, "this is - "

"Aang," Sokka finished. He extended his hand and Aang let out an embarrassed groan, reaching out to take it. Sokka squeezed uncomfortably hard, more a threat than a handshake.

"Hi, Sokka," he mumbled, his face scarlet.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Katara asked, confused. Before she had a chance to explore this further, Suki came into the room to sweep her into an enthusiastic hug and greet her. Sokka moved closer, still gripping Aang's hand, brows knit together.

"I am going to strangle the shit out of you next time we spar," he promised in a whisper.

Aang gave a tight nod, his voice equally low, "Yeah, I figured that was coming."

"All right, introduce me to the guy who's monopolizing all of your free time," Suki teased, her arm hooked around Katara's waist. Sokka was still staring at Aang, looking a bit like he was mentally calculating the depth of the hole he would need to dig in the yard.

"Suki," Sokka said, his voice dry and unimpressed, "This is Aang." He finally released Aang's hand.

Suki pressed her lips together and snorted on a laugh, "Oh. OH. Katara, let's open that wine."

"Do I want to know what's happening here?" Katara murmured to Suki.

"Absolutely, yes," Suki replied as they went to the kitchen.

Once they were out of earshot, Sokka grumbled, "Well, come in. Try not to trip and fall on top of my sister while you're here if you can manage it."

Aang hung up his coat, took a deep breath and followed Sokka through the living room to the kitchen.

Katara introduced Aang to her father, at which point he realized why her last name had always been vaguely familiar to him. Hakoda was retired now but had once been the Chief of the Republic City Fire Department. His hair was streaked with grey and his hands calloused. Aang was a bit wary after Sokka's reception but Hakoda was, by contrast, very welcoming. He was also practical and straightforward, putting everyone to work immediately. He sent Aang and Suki off to set the table while he and his children finished prepping dinner in the kitchen.

They spent most of the meal catching up. Hakoda had just returned from spending nearly a month at the family cabin in the South. There were updates on neighbors and distant relatives and on the cabin itself, which Aang gathered had undergone some renovation in the last year or two. Hakoda asked everyone about work and they made their way around the table. Sokka, who was a civil engineer, was currently working on a massive overhaul of the city subway system. Suki, it turned out, was a martial arts instructor and was just recovering from a sprained ankle. Katara spent a while venting about the current case she was working on. It leaned heavily on research being done by the Ba Sing Se branch. This left a great deal of the heavy lifting out of her control. It was making her day to day work more frustrating than usual. Finally, attention turned to Aang.

"So, Aang," Hakoda propped his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced in front of him, "What do you do?

Aang held his chopsticks point down, poised above a carrot. "I'm a teaching artist for the Republic City Ballet," he said. Sokka choked on his water and Suki kicked him under the table. Hakoda, to his credit, ignored them both.

"One of the first dates Kya and I went on when we moved to Republic City together was to the ballet," he said fondly.

Katara sat back in her chair with a soft smile, "I never knew that," she said.

Hakoda nodded, "We spent more money than we should have on this dress – your mother looked so beautiful that night." He looked wistful and his smile was bittersweet, "It's one of my most vivid memories of that time in our lives."

Aang popped the carrot into his mouth, arching his eyebrows meaningfully at Sokka, who glared at him.

"I thought you were a massage therapist," he put in, suspicion in his tone.

Aang wiped his mouth and returned his napkin to his lap, nodding. "I still do massage work part time. The job with the RCB just started recently." He took Katara's hand and squeezed it affectionately, tilting his head to look over at her, "Katara encouraged me to apply. I probably wouldn't be doing it otherwise."

She shook her head, her smile widening, "They wouldn't have turned you down."

He turned more fully to face her, "I insist you take credit for this," he protested, grinning. She laughed and gave a little shrug and he released her hand. "You've been super supportive," he added.

"What exactly is it you do?" Hakoda pressed.

"I'm overseeing the children's workshop program. They want me to teach more advanced classes at some point but I'm enjoying it so much I don't really want to do anything else right now."

"Have you been a teacher long?" Suki asked, a sly twist to her smile. Katara avoided looking at her and Aang shook his head.

"No, but I've been dancing since I was a kid so it's fun to kind of start over at the beginning again. I forgot how rambunctious those classes could get."

"He's being modest," Katara said, "Aang used to be a soloist for the RCB."

Sokka sat back, surprised, "Really?"

"You didn't know?" Suki asked skeptically.

Sokka shook his head, looking at Aang as if he had just sprouted feathers, "I had no idea."

Suki gestured to Aang, "The two of you have been dripping sweat into each other's eyes for the last year and a half and you didn't know any of this? You have some weird intimacy levels at that gym."

"That's how I tore my ACL," Aang explained.

"You guys see each other practically naked on a regular basis," Suki continued in a murmur, shaking her head in disbelief. Sokka rolled his eyes and waved her off. He gestured to Aang.

"Let's go do the dishes," he said, "The fact that you have a professional dance background fills in some gaps about your technique. I want to pick your brain about some stuff." He addressed everyone else, "We'll clear the table."

Aang raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Okay," he agreed.

Suki, Katara and Hakoda made their way to the living room. "They are such nerds," Suki murmured as they went, "Katara, if you keep bringing him around it's going to be all jiu jitsu talk all the time."

Hakoda and Katara sat on the couch together and Suki plopped down into one of the armchairs nearby.

"How's Gran?" Katara asked. Hakoda sighed.

"They changed her medication a little. She asked about you the last time I was visiting."

Katara smiled and it was strained, "Did she? I'm sorry it's been a while since I visited. I've been so busy."

Hakoda took his daughter's hand and squeezed it, "It's all right, honey." Katara shook her head and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She leaned into him, resting her head on her father's shoulder. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Visit her if you can but don't beat yourself up over it," he continued. "You know she wouldn't want that. If you want to cheer her up, send her a letter. She reads those over and over."

Katara sighed, "I'm glad you're home, Dad. I missed you."

She could tell he was smiling, "It's good to get out of the city once in a while but I missed all of you, too. Find some time to come down with me soon, all right? People were asking about you while I was there."

She nodded, "Okay." She picked a bit of lint off her pant leg, fidgeting, "Hey, Dad?"

"Hmm?"

Katara sat up and looked into the kitchen. Aang and Sokka were up to their elbows in soapy water, laughing about something. Sokka was shaking his head and Aang was nodding emphatically. She turned back to her father.

"Do you like Aang?"

Hakoda brightened a bit, "He seems nice and you seem happy. I wish I'd invited the two of you over sooner."

Katara ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "Good. I mean, I'm glad because," she glanced at Suki, a shy smile flashing across her face, "He asked me to move in with him."

xXXx

Aang was quiet on the drive back to the house and Katara turned in her seat to look at him. It was late but the highway was well lit.

"That went pretty well," she remarked.

He took a deep breath, nodding, "Yeah, I think so, too."

She leaned her seat back a bit and closed her eyes, "My dad likes you," she said, "Suki told me you and Sokka have a little bit of a friendly rivalry at the gym but he still gave you a harder time than I expected. Sorry if he made you uncomfortable."

" _Yeeaah_ , about that," Aang said, and at his tone she opened her eyes again, "I appreciate the strategic placement of the marks you leave on me so that people don't see them at work. Unfortunately, that logic doesn't really carry over to a locker room situation."

Katara tried to choke back a laugh and was unsuccessful, "Oh, no." she gasped quietly, "That is so awkward."

There was an incredulous smile on his face. "Are you mocking my pain right now? You know he's going to maul me at the next open mat, right?"

Katara pinched her lips together, fighting against a smile, "I'm sorry."

"You are not," Aang scoffed, but there was no venom in it. He laughed, shaking his head, "It's fine. Maybe after he tears my arm off and beats me to death with it he'll have it mounted. You can hang it on the wall."

Katara took a deep breath to calm herself, "I could just exercise a little more restraint in bed," she offered.

"Uh no, thank you," he replied. "I think that's a bit of an overreaction."

This came dangerously close to setting her off again and she grinned. In an effort to change the subject she said, "I told my dad we're moving in together. He said we can borrow his truck."

"Cool, we don't have to rent one, then." he tapped his thumbs anxiously on the steering wheel, "He was okay with it?"

"I think he was surprised. But he wouldn't be offering his truck if he was opposed to it."

Aang nodded, "Sokka offered to help us the day of the move. I said yes, I hope that's okay."

Katara toed her shoes off and drew her feet up onto the seat. "You told him?"

"Yeah, I figured maybe he'd feel a little better about us if he knew…" he cleared his throat, "I don't want him to think I'm just…" He shrugged, "You know."

She nodded, "I know." They were quiet for a moment. "Did you have an okay time?" she asked.

"I did, yeah. It was nice of your dad to invite me." There was a faint smile on his face, "I haven't been to a family dinner in a while."

"We do this every weekend," she informed him. "I'm pretty sure it's safe to assume you have a standing invitation at this point."

"Oh, really? Sweet. I'll put it on my calendar." Katara found his enthusiasm as endearing as it was heartbreaking. She let out a pained, little groan and he glanced at her.

"What?" he asked.

"You," she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Sometimes you're like an adorable little puppy with big, sad eyes."

He gave an embarrassed laugh, "Yeah, well."

The skyline of the city was coming into view but Katara wasn't looking at it. She leaned against the seat, still facing him, watching him.

"Is this anywhere close to where you thought you'd be six months ago?"

A grin spread across his face and his eyes flashed toward her. "No," he replied, returning his attention to the road stretched out in front of them.

She smiled back at him. "Me, neither." She closed her eyes, "This is way better."


	14. Moving Day

Katara stood in her kitchen sipping coffee, still half asleep. She looked out the pass through at the piles of cardboard boxes, a twist of anxiety in her gut. She couldn't quite pinpoint the source. The sun was just coming up.

All of the furniture she was not bringing with her was already in storage. She and Aang spent an uncomfortable night on an air mattress and it had not been particularly restful. When her alarm woke her, the need for caffeine won out over modesty. She'd tugged on her sweatpants and staggered to the kitchen topless to boil water.

Sokka wouldn't arrive with the truck for another two hours. They'd staged just about everything in the living room the night before. Even so, she felt like they'd missed something and wanted to be up early enough to handle any last minute details.

Aang ambled in from the bedroom. He was already dressed for the day in worn out cargo shorts and a threadbare maroon t-shirt, carrying the backpack that was serving as his overnight bag. He set it on the floor and bent to riffle through it as she poured him a cup of coffee. When he stood she was holding it out to him. The light streaming in through the windows was bright and orange and he sighed.

"You have never been more beautiful to me than you are in this moment," he told her, his voice still rough and sleepy. He took the mug from her and she smiled.

"There's still some chocolate almond milk left," she said.

"I lied," he said, "it's this moment." He went to the fridge and she leaned back against the counter, yawning.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked. He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Let's agree as a couple that we will never sleep on an air mattress together again. That was ridiculous."

Katara nodded, stifling another yawn, "Yeah, you're all limbs and I'm a bed hog. We start out sleeping so close together I forget how sprawled out we both get. Your bed is so big I never notice."

He was perusing the limited contents of the fridge and took out eggs and a bag of wilted spinach. "You're not as bad when you're worn out but I know neither of us had the energy last night."

"At last your true motivations are revealed," she shook her head, feigning disappointment, "I always wondered why you worked so hard when we had overnights."

"I hate to tell you this but that was mostly about my tip," he said with a grin.

She winced, biting her lip to hold back a smile. "I didn't think my criteria for percentage increases was that obvious."

He chuckled, "I didn't fall off of a cabbage cart the day before we met. Where's your frying pan?"

She watched him scramble eggs in one of the bowls they'd left unpacked. In the beginning she thought his air of comfortable ease came from the fact that they mostly spent time at his house. He was in his element there and it was easy to write it off as familiarity. Later, she wondered if it was bravado, just a part of his professional facade. Now she knew it was just who he was. There was a certain deftness about the way he moved through day to day life that she figured probably came from patience and discipline. He had an inclination toward contemplative silences and introspection. It could have made him come across as aloof if he weren't so warm. Sokka told her they called him Brother Gyatso behind his back at the gym and she could see why.

They ate breakfast sitting on the living room floor, using boxes as an improvised table.

"You're quiet," Aang observed. Katara sighed.

"I'm kind of nervous," she confided, picking at the last fragments of food on her plate. "I'm not even sure why."

He sat back, leaning on his hands, "Are you having second thoughts?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. I suppose I'm worried you will."

He leaned across the boxes to kiss her on the cheek, "Didn't we already talk about this last week?" he pointed down at her plate, "Are you done with this?"

She nodded and he stood, taking their dishes to the kitchen. When he returned he was carrying his phone in one hand and a tube of sunscreen in the other, scrolling through the former with his thumb.

He glanced up and held the sunscreen out to her, "Will you give me a hand with this, please?"

"Sure," she said, taking it from him. He stood there, still distracted with his phone for a moment before he finally put it into his pocket. He sat down in front of her, his back to her, legs folded. She knelt behind him.

"I don't know what to tell you, sweetie," he said as she put sunscreen on the back of his neck. "I wouldn't have asked you to move in with me if I didn't want you there."

She frowned, "I know. Do you want me to get your scalp, too?"

"Yes, please." He closed his eyes while she worked her thumbs up from the base of his skull. He released a contented sigh and silence fell between them. Once she'd finished, she ran her hands down the sides of his neck. One of them continued down to slip beneath his shirt, touching his chest. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his jaw.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I think you're trying to distract me from having a conversation about our relationship." he drawled.

Katara withdrew her hands and sat back on her heels. "Yeah, probably." She leaned forward, her forehead resting on his back.

"If all you feel is nervous we shouldn't do this," he said. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, that if she backed out he would understand, he would accept it. She straightened and he turned so that he was facing her, ducking his head a bit to look into her eyes. He flashed her a grin.

"We shouldn't have made this decision while we were both naked. Maybe you would feel less conflicted about it."

She laughed, "Well, it was probably the only time I would have been relaxed enough." He smiled and she went on. "I'm happy, it's just…neither of us have ever done this before and it's the house you grew up in. I don't know. I'm worried it's going to change things between us, I guess."

He shrugged, "It probably will. That doesn't have to be a bad thing." When she didn't respond he asked, "If someone told you today your life was going to be exactly the same a year from now would you be happy?"

She rolled her eyes but she was still smiling. "That's a little hyperbolic but I appreciate the sentiment."

He chuckled, "I'm biased. The last time things changed between us worked out pretty well for me."

Katara softened and leaned forward to kiss him. When their eyes met again his expression was serious.

"If you want to unpack all of this I'll stay and help you do it," he said. "Honestly. Whatever you want to do."

She shook her head, "No. I am not having second thoughts," she reiterated.

He nodded, "All right. Good." He gave her a quick kiss, "I'm glad you're talking to me about all of this. I want to know how you're feeling." He cocked his head slightly, "Do you mind if I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," she replied.

"Instead of going over everything for a third time to make sure we didn't miss anything - " she started to protest this and he went on, " - Sokka isn't going to be here with the truck for over an hour." He narrowed his eyes a little mischievously, "Maybe being a bit more relaxed would be helpful for you today, too."

Katara put her hands on her hips, "You listen to me, sir," she began, a huff of counterfeit indignation in her voice, "I pride myself on being thorough when it comes to important projects." He rose to his knees and caught her around the waist, bending to kiss her shoulder. She let out a low moan of defeat as he worked his way up her neck to her ear.

"I have a very important project for you in the other room," he murmured, laughter in his voice. She dissolved into laughter, as well, wrapping her arms around his neck.

xXXx

They'd taken turns staying with the truck at first. Eventually, Sokka's penchant for organization got the better of him. He sent Aang to handle the remaining heavy lifting while he rearranged the contents of the truck.

He and Katara passed each other back and forth on the stairs, carting the last of her possessions. It had been a long morning. They flashed each other smiles over stacks of boxes but they were working without speaking much at this point. Katara stood in her empty condo after Aang took down the last batch of books. Tomorrow a cleaning company would come through, the following week a cute couple with a fat cat would be moving in. She went to the fridge and retrieved the remaining bottles of water.

Aang was passing the final box up to Sokka by the time she got outside. She waited on the curb, squinting and shielding her eyes against the sunlight.

"That's everything," she said, sounding relieved. "I was kind of worried we weren't going to get it all in one trip."

"Yeah," Sokka grunted as he shoved a stack of boxes further away from the tailgate. "Fortunately, I am smarter than all of your crap."

Aang turned to face her. He tugged his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. One of her neighbors had just exited the building and slowed as she passed to steal a furtive look at him. When she noticed Katara was watching she sped up, blushing and pointing her eyes at the ground. Katara turned back to Aang with an incredulous roll of her eyes. He shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. She offered him a bottle of water and he passed it up to Sokka, taking the second for himself.

"You ready to go, then?" he asked. She nodded, tight lipped, turning the last unopened bottle of water between her hands. Aang stepped up on the curb with her, keeping his voice low so that her brother would not hear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured back. She gave a small, crooked smile and nodded. Aang smiled back at her.

"I love you and I'm really glad we're doing this," he said, "I'd give you a hug if I weren't so sweaty and gross."

"I'm sweaty and gross, too," she replied, reaching up to put her arms around his neck. He let his hand rest on her hip as she tilted her head up to kiss him.

"Let's agree we're all gross," Sokka interjected, having joined them on the sidewalk. "Come on, lovebirds. I have better things to do today than watch you two make out in public."

Katara pulled away from Aang with a harassed groan. "My chaperone and I will see you at the house," she muttered. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then turned with a wave and jogged up the street to his car. Sokka slammed the tailgate shut and they got into the truck.

Unloading everything at the house went much faster. Or maybe it just seemed like it did. Sokka declined an offer to join them for a late lunch and left to return the truck to Hakoda.

Standing in the kitchen a short while later, Katara stared into space and tried to mentally assess where to start with her unpacking. Aang was on the phone ordering delivery from Narook's when the doorbell rang. Katara went to answer it. She returned to the kitchen bearing a rectangular green box just as he was hanging up.

"Twenty minutes until food," he said. She set the box on the table.

"Is this your doing?" she accused. He smiled, leaning back against the counter as she opened it. Inside was a simple arrangement of black and white striped flowers she recognized immediately.

"Panda lilies," she said quietly, smiling. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

He joined her at the table, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his chest to her back. He perched his head atop hers.

"You didn't have to," she murmured, laying her hands on his arms. He shrugged.

"It's a big day," he said, as if this were answer enough.

xXXx

In the shower they washed each other's backs and took turns easing aching muscles under the warm spray of water. They planned out a rough schedule for the next day, breathing in steam and watching each other.

They stood in the bedroom together afterwards, Katara in her underwear, surveying her suitcases and garment bags. Her hair was damp and curled down between her shoulders. Aang regarded her in silence from across the room, a towel still wrapped low around his hips. She had her arms folded under her breasts and he could tell from the rigidity in her back that she was brooding about unpacking. She turned to face him and smiled when she saw he was looking at her.

"How are you doing?" she asked. He offered a small smile and ran his hand over his head.

"Pretty beat." He stretched his arms out in front of him, rotating his wrists back and forth. "I'm glad we knocked it all out in one day, though." He sat down on the end of the bed and Katara walked over to stand between his knees. He reached for her with a weary sigh and pulled her closer, burying his face in her chest, arms around her waist. Kissing the top of his head, she dragged her fingertips slowly up the back of his neck, along his spine.

"If you scoot up and lay down I'll rub your hands," she offered.

He tipped his head up to kiss the underside of her chin before releasing her. Aang moved further up the bed and she followed, straddling his thighs while he adjusted the pillows under his head. Once they were situated, she took his right hand in both of hers. She moved her thumbs in firm circles on his palm and he closed his eyes with a little groan of relief. Katara started doing this for him when massage was briefly his primary source of income. Now that he was dancing again, Aang had his own massage therapist, a burly one who did punishing deep tissue work. But he left the more delicate, personal task of his hands to Katara.

"You've been sweet to me today," she said, "I appreciate it." She worked her way down to his wrist and back and kissed his knuckles. He smiled without opening his eyes. "Oh, and the manual labor was helpful, too."

He chuckled, "You're welcome."

She set his right hand down on his stomach and moved onto his left. He was feeling a little drowsy. The steady movement of her hands was beginning to lull him closer to sleep. He opened his eyes and saw hers were traveling slowly down his body, as if she hadn't already familiarized herself with it months ago. By the time her gaze meandered back up to his face, he was smiling, his eyelids a little heavy. She blushed with a quiet laugh, aware she'd been caught staring. Letting go of his hand, she bent to kiss him, slipping her tongue between his parted lips. He let his hands rest on her thighs. When he started to sit up, she pushed him back down, hands on his shoulders.

"You have done more than enough today," she said. "Lay down."

"But I - "

She shook her head, "One of these days I'm just going to tie you up," she warned.

"I have some books you can borrow," he replied with a grin. She leaned down again, as if she were going to kiss him. He raised his head to meet her but instead she pressed her fingertips to his lips. Her eyes were narrowed but she was still smiling, her expression playfully stern.

"Aang," she said, "Stop. Talking." He swallowed, fighting down the impulse to speak. He knew where this was going, recognized the subtle air of command about her.

The first time he'd seen her like this was their first night together, after the coffee shop. After they installed themselves in a corner to talk and stayed there until closing time. Under the completely obvious pretense that the conversation was going to continue, they went back to his house. The lie was so blatant they didn't bother turning on the lights once they were inside. They didn't even make it upstairs. Instead, they undressed each other without speaking in the living room. It felt like a relief, like they were getting away with something. Her boldness caught him off guard. The dynamic of their relationship pivoted that night and it thrilled him, more than he cared to admit. He wasn't even sure how he ended up pinned to the wall and didn't care. He meant to stop her, to move them to the couch, but it never happened. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Laying beneath her now felt like that night. He bent his knees a bit to shift her slightly forward on his lap, his hands sliding to her hips. Katara cupped his face and kissed his lower lip, his chin. Tilting his head back gently, her lips brushed along his jaw. He sighed, closing his eyes.

She pressed her lips to his throat. Her warm weight shifted on top of him and he rolled his hips a little, pushing back against her. He could feel her smile as she trailed lower, the tip of her tongue dipping into the hollow of his clavicle. Her hands sank into the blankets at his sides, lips drawing up goosebumps on his chest.

Settling between his knees, Katara sat up slightly and pulled the towel back. She raked her nails downward from his abdomen and across his exposed hips and he let out a soft hiss, so low he wasn't even sure she heard. Her fingertips were cool and soft on his thighs and he opened his eyes to look down at her. She kissed his stomach, following the lines she'd traced on his skin. As she dragged the tip of her tongue along the indentation of his hip, she looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Desire stretched taut through him and he bit back a moan.

"You're killing me," he groaned. She pinched his thigh and he laughed a little.

"What did I tell you?" she admonished, though her self-satisfied smile took all of the sting out of it. He was about to reply - against his better judgement - when she slid the fingers of her right hand around the base of his erection. His response caught in his throat when she ran her parted lips along the underside, darting her tongue out as she did. He expected her to torment him, to draw it out, but she didn't. Instead, she enveloped him completely in the delicate heat of her mouth. His breath hitched.

Her rhythm tonight was tortuously slow. She punctuated each upward stroke with something that was almost a kiss but not quite. There was a sweet, focused pause before her lips slid back down again. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back into the pillow, content to let her dictate the pace. Katara had figured him out so quickly and her execution impressed him, every time. It sometimes felt like she'd been doing this to him for years, rather than months. Her tongue went relaxed and flat so she could take him in deeper and a low whimper came out of him.

Katara moved to straddle one of his legs, the heat of her core pressed against his shin. A weak moan of need came out of him before he could stop it. He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her and whispered her name, already much too close and desperate to touch her. She pulled back and looked up at him. Her lips were dark and wet but she licked them anyway. Aang knew this shameless display was strictly for his benefit and he groaned.

"Come up here," he murmured. She ran her thumb across his slick skin and he took a slow, deep breath, holding it in anticipation.

"But I'm not finished," she teased. He let his head drop back onto the pillow and heard her give a triumphant little laugh.

"What are you trying to do to me?" he asked. He raised his head to look down at her again.

"Do I really have to explain the technical aspect of this to you of all people?" she drawled.

"Please, come up here," he pleaded.

Katara shook her head, "You do this for me more often than I do it for you," she pointed out.

"I like going down on you," he defended, "I'm not exactly keeping track."

"I'm enjoying myself pretty thoroughly, if that's what you're worried about." She squeezed gently and he groaned, his jaw slack. Tilting his hips up a little, he pushed back into her hand. She shifted her hips, the friction against his leg drawing a sigh out of her. "Do you really want me to stop?"

He looked into her eyes and knew she could see through him completely. "No," he whispered. "Don't stop." As if he weren't sure this was sufficient he added, "Please."

She smiled and resumed her work, this time with unbroken, steady strokes. The more consistent her tempo became the more uneven his breathing grew. Her hair fell forward and he swept it back so he could see what she was doing.

"Will you go a little faster?" he asked. For as communicative as they were in bed, he didn't often make direct requests like this. It made him feel more self conscious than he expected to say it. When she complied, he let out the breath he'd been holding in a low moan that tripped past his lips. The pressure and tension inside him rose and crested and he murmured her name in a warning he knew was needless. The nails of her free hand scraped down his ribs, biting into his hip and he tensed beneath her, eyes closed. Fingers tangled in the sheets, he repeated her name in a ragged groan.

His mind seemed to still and for a moment, there was only room for her. The soft, wet heat of her mouth, the contradiction of her touch. One of her hands was soft and gentle against him, the other leaving tiny pink marks on his pale skin. He opened his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. For a second his vision swam out of focus in the white expanse of the ceiling. It felt like his mind was being projected out in front of him, quiet and soft and blank. Katara was the fulcrum and she dragged a few last, lazy strokes of her tongue along his sensitive flesh. At length, she kissed her way up the line of his torso and curled into him. He wanted to put his arm around her but felt too limp and sluggish to manage it.

"That was amazing," he said, "Thank you." He turned his head to look at her and she smiled and kissed him. She sucked at his bottom lip and he groaned with a little laugh in it.

"You're welcome," she said. She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingertips tracing tiny circles on his chest.

"I really want to return the favor," he began. She could already hear the apology coming and kissed him on the cheek.

"I didn't expect you to have the energy after that," she teased.

"I like your confidence," he yawned. "We'll see how helpful it is when I wake you up at three."

She laughed, "You are not waking up at three. You're exhausted." She slid her arm across his midsection, legs tangled with his.

"Well, I'm highly motivated," he murmured. She laughed and kissed him again and he sighed, closing his eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied.

xXXx

Aang descended the stairs and entered the kitchen to find Katara standing at the stove, frying eggs. She glanced at him as he entered the room and smiled.

"Good morning," she said.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Hey, look at this. It's my girlfriend, who lives here, making breakfast." She gave a shy smile and he walked past her to the table. There was a squat box with pink stripes on it and he opened it with a gasp. "And the donut fairy came."

She laughed without looking up from what she was doing. "There is also coffee which I just made ten minutes ago."

"You're the best," he said. "How long have you been up?"

She shrugged, "About an hour. I started having dreams about unpacking so I decided I better just get out of bed. I went for a walk to get the paper."

He frowned as he poured coffee. "Didn't mine come today?"

She tipped eggs onto plates and retrieved the toast that had just popped up. "It was in a puddle," she explained.

"Damn, again? When did it even rain?"

"This morning." She set their plates and silverware on the table and arched an eyebrow, smirking in his direction. "You didn't hear it when you woke me up?"

He sat down across from her. "In my defense, my head was under a blanket."

She was just about to respond to this when her phone buzzed. Katara picked it up and frowned at the screen. She cleared her throat and Aang looked up from his plate.

"Sokka just sent me this." As if she were reciting a grocery list she read out, "Please ask that boyfriend of yours if he is coming to open mat tonight or if he is too sore from lifting boxes of makeup and stuffed animals." Aang rolled his eyes. "Are you?"

"I'd rather hang out with you," he said, taking a bite of his toast.

"Could I come and watch?"

He sipped his coffee, attempting to hide how pleased he was by this suggestion and failing. "Our trainers let people observe sometimes. You might be bored, though."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't the goal to attempt to choke the people you're sparring with?"

"It's a bit more nuanced than that but yeah, more or less."

She looked down at her phone again, "And you'd be sparring with my brother."

He grinned, "I usually do at some point."

"I don't know how I could possibly be bored by that."

Aang laughed and picked up his fork. "Tell him I'll be there."


	15. Mourning

It was Sokka, not Katara, who picked Aang up from the airport. It had been a surprise to get a text from him as the plane landed.

"Katara was up all night but she's sleeping now so I'm coming to get you instead."

Aang felt a stab of trepidation when he read this. He was secretly relieved Katara wouldn't be making the drive - he knew the cabin was remote and the idea of her driving the battered truck Hakoda kept there made him a little nervous. The fact that she'd been up all night, the fact that she was sleeping in the middle of the afternoon, worried him. It wasn't like her.

x

Although he expected to find her distraught after she texted him with the news of her grandmother's death, Katara had been surprisingly businesslike. She was packing to leave by the time he got home, moving back and forth through their bedroom from her dresser to the bed. He held her but it was abbreviated. She felt tense in his arms and turned away in agitation to resume filling her suitcase. She didn't cry and it filled him with foreboding.

"We're having the funeral in the South," Katara explained, her voice shaky and distant, "so her - she…she's being moved. Back home." This almost broke her but she cleared her throat and swallowed, pushing it all down.

"Can I do anything?" Aang asked gently. She dropped the shirt she'd been holding into her suitcase and hugged herself, her back to him.

"Can you drive me to the airport?" she asked, "I have to get down there to start making arrangements."

He stared at her back, her hunched shoulders. It felt like he should have some wisdom to share with her but everything that came to him felt hollow. He wanted to offer her something other than empty platitudes. She seemed far away and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hesitating.

"Okay," he replied.

She must have sensed something in his tone because she turned to face him. There were unshed tears in her eyes and he crossed the room and put his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.

"I'm okay," she whispered, returning his embrace, "I'm just…my dad is a mess and Sokka…I need to hold it together for them, until we get everything taken care of."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Your dad and Sokka are not here right now," he reminded her, his voice low. She nodded.

"I know. I just can't fall apart. Not now."

x

Sokka looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was a little gaunt, like he hadn't been eating well. He hadn't bothered to get out of the truck but the airport was small and he'd been easy to spot in the rusty blue pickup. The air was sharp and cold and when Aang opened the door, warmth spilled out of the cab. He got in and Sokka helped him push his bag behind the seats.

Neither of them spoke as Sokka pulled away from the terminal and got onto the highway. At last he cleared his throat.

"Thanks for coming," he said gruffly. Aang nodded without looking at him, staring out at the road and the snow stretching before them.

"How are you doing?" he asked. Sokka shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"And your dad?" Aang asked, putting off the question he really wanted to ask. Sokka sighed.

"He'll be all right." Sokka glanced at the younger man beside him, "Katara," he cleared his throat again and Aang's hands tensed into fists in the pockets of his coat, "Katara's not doing well. I've never seen her like this." He squeezed the steering wheel, flexing his wrists a little.

"She sat up all night going over Gran's will even though we're paying someone else to handle all of that stuff."

Aang nodded slowly, not knowing what to say.

"I'm glad you're here," Sokka admitted, "You're a good guy, Aang. You're good for Katara."

"Thanks," Aang replied, ducking his head a little, embarrassed. He swallowed, "I'm sorry about your grandmother."

Sokka nodded, "Me, too."

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

xXXx

It was already getting dark when they reached the cabin. Smoke curled out of the chimney and the lights were on and bright inside. Katara had told Aang stories about this place, about childhood trips spent here, about the heart wrenching decision to insist their grandmother move out when she grew too old to live alone. Hakoda had lived in this house, one of a handful that made up the tiny village where he'd grown up. There were more houses in the area now, larger ones, and the family returned here regularly, for reunions and hunting trips and just to escape the city every now and then. Katara suggested they spend their first anniversary there but the day came and went, dampened by the spectre of her grandmother's declining health.

The back door opened into the kitchen where Hakoda and Suki were sitting at the table, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses between them, talking quietly. Hakoda stood when they entered and shook Aang's hand in greeting, the two of them exchanging the unpleasant pleasantries that always hung heavy over these situations. Suki smiled up at Aang, obviously relieved that she was no longer the lone interloper.

A door creaked open from deeper inside the house and Katara's voice preceded her into the kitchen.

"Why did you guys let me sleep so long? I need to get - " she entered the room and stopped in her tracks when she saw Aang. Her hair was rumpled and there was a coffee stain on the thigh of her sweatpants. The room was blanketed with awkward silence.

"Hi," Aang said, a little hesitantly.

Katara was hugging herself. She looked drawn and uncomfortable. "Hi," she replied.

Aang glanced around the room, "Sorry, would you guys excuse me?" he held up his bag, "Katara, do you want to show me where I should put this?"

She nodded and turned to leave the room. Suki sighed sadly and reached out to give Aang's arm a sympathetic squeeze before he followed her.

The lights in the kitchen were deceptive because the rest of the house was dim. Katara led Aang into her room without bothering to turn the lights on. There was a small dresser, a small bed that he knew both of them would barely fit on. The room was lit only with the sparse remaining sunlight, filtering in through the old lace curtains. He set his bag down and closed the door behind him.

"I need to get back to reviewing Gran's paperwork," Katara said, moving to walk past him. Aang stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Woah. You need to get some rest," he said firmly, "When was the last time you ate?"

She shrugged him off, her eyes downcast. "I need to get back to work," she reiterated.

He shook his head, "Sokka told me you guys hired someone to do all of that. Stop worrying about it. It's taken care of."

She glared at him, "I don't want some stranger going through Gran's things when I'm perfectly capable of doing it. It's the least I can do after - " she broke off, her jaw clenched and Aang brushed her hair back out of her face.

"What?" he pressed gently. She shook her head and for a second he thought she might not go on. "Katara," he murmured, cupping her face so that she had to look him in the eyes.

"After…after everything she did for me." Katara's voice wobbled. Tears ran down her cheeks into his hands so suddenly it was like someone had flipped a switch, "She did everything for me, Aang. She took care of me," she choked out, "It's my turn to take care of her."

He sighed sadly and pulled her closer, arms around her. "I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry," he whispered. He tucked her head under his chin and she broke down into miserable sobs. She clung to him, as much for support as out of relief. They hadn't seen each other for nearly two weeks. In light of everything else it felt almost selfish, missing her boyfriend. He offered to join her in the South sooner but she declined, immediately regretting it. She missed his voice and the strength of his arms. She missed too many people, her heart too tender and bruised. Having his calm, sure presence filling the void felt like a kind of permission.

After a while she quieted and he kissed the top of her head, taking her hand and walking to the bed. She climbed in and he sat down next to her.

"What can I bring you?" he asked, "Can I get you some tea or something?"

She shook her head, her voice stuffy and she sniffled, "Just stay with me."

"Okay." He rubbed her shoulder and bent down to remove his shoes, then stood to pull off his coat and sweatshirt, tossing them on top of his bag. He hesitated for a second before he took his pants off as well, then got under the covers with her. They lay close together in the dark, her head on his chest, hand over his heart.

"I wish we were home," she said, her voice thick with tears, "I wish this none of this were happening."

"Me, too," he replied.

It wasn't much longer before she dropped off again, into sleep.

xXXx

The funeral was a blur of faces and names. Some people she hadn't seen since childhood, some more recently. They offered condolences and shared memories of Gran but Katara barely registered any of it.

Late in the day, she escaped to the front porch of the community building, away from the crowd for a moment of quiet. The cold was biting and she'd left her coat inside but it gave her something else to think about. She looked out at the ice and snow, at the setting sun.

Out here in the cold and silence, it was easy for her to imagine they were just here visiting, that Gran was ensconced in the nursing home back in the city, where she was safe. Katara's breath escaped from her in clouds of betraying steam.

It occurred to her that if they had not moved Gran to Republic City when they did, she might have simply wandered off into the darkness at night. She might have frozen to death years ago, instead of clinging to the tattered remains of her memory, held precariously together with medication and photographs and visits she always forgot afterwards. Katara wondered if this would have been better and immediately felt disgusted with herself.

The door opened and Aang joined her on the porch. Katara gripped the rough wooden railing. She shied away as he approached, as if he might see what she'd just been thinking if he got too close. There were tears freezing on her face. She hadn't even realized she was crying.

"Sweetie, what are you doing out here without a coat?" He unzipped his and folded her into it, hands in his pockets to hold it closed around her. She slid her arms around his waist, leaning into his warmth, shaking.

"I don't know," she whispered, then realized this was a lie and admitted, "I feel guilty."

"About what?" he asked.

"I just…I should have visited more or called more," she began to cry in earnest, her breath coming in shallow gulps. "I should have been there. Instead I just ran away to my stupid job so I didn't have to see her dying."

He whispered her name but she shook her head, cutting him off, "Why do I push away everything good in my life?" she sobbed. "What's wrong with me?"

"Hey," he said, drawing his hands from his pockets to take hold of her shoulders, looking into her eyes. There were tears in his eyes, too. She'd never seen him cry before and was almost startled by it.

"There is nothing wrong with you," he said firmly.

She bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling and reached out to touch his face. She brushed the tracks of tears on his cheeks with her fingertips. Her vision clouded over and she let out a shaky sigh.

"I almost did it to you, too," she reminded him, as if this were an indictment.

"But you didn't," he said, almost pleading. He pulled her close, holding her as tightly as he could. He closed his coat around her again, wishing he could shield her from her own sorrow as easily as he could against the cold. "I'm here," he whispered to her. "I'm not going anywhere."

xXXx

Katara wasn't sure what woke her.

It was late and the only sound in the cabin was the low hum of the heater. Aang had turned his back to her in the night and she was curled around him. She glanced at the clock and realized she'd only been asleep for a couple of hours.

She was still sleepy and there was something strangely comforting about this moment, the quiet and the low light. It was almost dreamlike and she closed her eyes. She focused on Aang, his warmth, his smell. She slid her arm around his waist and pressed herself against him. He stirred a little and twined his fingers in hers. She kissed the back of his neck and he sighed.

"You okay?" he mumbled, groggy and a little confused. Before she could answer he rolled over. Out of habit he nudged his leg between her knees and pulled her closer, gathering her up in his arms.

His thigh pressed against her and Katara felt a sudden arc of desire, like static electricity passing between the two of them. She opened her eyes and bit her lip, feeling almost ashamed. She swallowed and nodded.

"I'm fine," she whispered back, but she knew it sounded shaky and strained. He opened his eyes as well and pulled back a bit so he could see her face. He was about to say something and she kissed him, instead. She hooked her ankle around his leg, pulling his thigh harder against her body. Lips parted slightly, she let herself curl into him, knowing he could tell what was happening.

He backed away and she could see he was wide awake. He let his hand rest on her hip and she laid her own over it, dragging it up her side, under her shirt. His eyes were narrowed slightly, that analytical expression she hadn't seen in almost a year, and she knew he was trying to figure out the best way to proceed. The spread of his fingers as he slid them across her abdomen drew a sigh from her and she pressed her forehead to his.

"I missed you," she whispered."I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too." He hesitated, then added, "I was worried about you."

She kissed him again, comforted by the familiarity, their intimacy blotting out everything else. Katara knew there was urgency in her kiss but she didn't care. She yanked at his clothing feverishly, tugging his shirt up and off. For the first time in weeks she let herself forget everything else, let her awareness be consumed completely by him, the planes of his chest, the softness of his hands and his mouth. They undressed each other with such abandon that Katara's underwear was still twisted around one of her knees when she straddled him. She touched him and he broke their kiss when he realized what was about to happen. Sinking down onto him, she took him inside of herself. His hands jolted to her hips and a quiet, choked moan escaped him.

They'd talked about this. With each other, with their doctors. Katara had been on the pill for years but still she hesitated. The intimacy was daunting.

She'd almost been saving it. For what she wasn't exactly sure. But when she'd imagined this moment it was never like this, in this creaky, cramped cabin, on this tiny bed, her eyes still puffy from the crying she'd been doing all day. She just knew she needed him, and if he was resentful of the circumstances he didn't show it. He sat up and she bent down. She thought he was going to kiss her but instead he whispered to her.

"Are you sure?" he managed and she nodded.

"I love you," she answered.

"I love you, too," he murmured back.

xXXx

Aang sat on the floor in the living room, a pillow in his lap. Katara lay on her back between his legs, her hands resting on his shins. Steam rose off of the mugs of tea on the nearby table. He worked his fingertips in circular motions on the bridge of her nose, neither of them speaking.

The door to the bedroom Sokka and Suki were sharing opened and Sokka stumbled out into the sunlight streaming in through the windows, squinting. His eyes were a little puffy and he was scowling.

"Did you guys eat yet?" he asked.

Aang shook his head, "Your dad just started breakfast." he glanced at Sokka pointedly, "He specifically requested no assistance and said we are to stay out of the kitchen. There were very lofty claims made about waffles."

Sokka grunted, watching the two of them for a moment before going into the bathroom. There was the rattle of bottles from the medicine cabinet before he emerged again, dry swallowing a couple of pills from his hand.

"Headache?" Aang asked.

"Yeah."

He nodded toward Katara, "She woke up with one, too. It's probably your sinuses. We'll be done in about ten minutes if you want me to work on you next. We can throw a blanket on the coffee table or something if you don't want to lay on the floor."

Sokka frowned and Aang thought he might snap at him. Instead he shrugged.

"Yeah, all right," he muttered, before returning to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Huh," Katara grunted, surprised.

"I guess I'm finally in," Aang replied.


	16. Forward

Katara could have made the drive in her sleep.

The trip from her office to the house was familiar now. Taking the same route twice daily for nearly two years had worn it into her subconscious so thoroughly she was usually on autopilot for it. She thought about other things, about work mostly, decompressing so that she wouldn't be distracted over dinner. Katara felt herself relax as she rounded the corner onto their tree lined street. She waved to the couple from three houses down who were walking their tiny, puffy dog.

She had worked a half day, going in late, but it dragged anyway. As much as she grumbled about the recommendation to ease herself back into her routine, she was glad it was Friday.

Katara unlocked the front door and stepped inside, setting her briefcase and bag on the floor and taking off her shoes. Aang was on the couch, fast asleep, still wearing the same t-shirt and shorts he had put on that morning. He'd trimmed his beard, finally, which she gathered meant he was planning on keeping it. She was skeptical when he first started growing it a few months ago, but it suited him. He looked less boyish. Although, she reflected with an amused smile, maybe the beard wasn't the only factor.

Bumi was sprawled on his chest, one of Aang's hands on his back. She sat down beside them and Aang started awake when the couch sagged, his arm immediately closing around the baby dozing on top of him. When he saw Katara sitting there his head dropped back down with a relieved groan.

"Sorry," Katara whispered.

Bumi snuffled quietly and Aang rubbed his back gently, "It's okay," he mumbled, "We should get up, anyway." He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and took a deep breath through his nose, "I don't even know how long we've been asleep. How was your day?"

"It felt long. I missed my boys." she leaned down to kiss Bumi on the head and he whimpered.

Aang scooted into a sitting position to make room for her."I hate to do this to you as soon as you walk through the door but he's probably hungry."

Katara moved into the spot he'd opened for her, already warm, and began removing her jacket, "It's okay. I pumped during that conference call. I took it out of the freezer at work right before I left. My bag is by the door."

"Yeah, I'll get it," he yawned, "Thanks, sweetie." He passed the baby off to her once her shirt was open and kissed her on the forehead as he stood and went to retrieve her bag. He took it to the kitchen.

"How was your day?" she called after him.

"Pretty good!" he replied, "Funny coincidence though, Suki stopped by to drop off some sweater I've never seen you wear that she claimed was yours." He leaned through the door to catch her eye and she pinched her lips together, holding back a guilty smile. He shook his head.

"You could have just called, you know."

"You can't force me to incriminate myself. I'm a lawyer, I know these things."

"Mm hmm," he replied, arching an eyebrow in satisfaction. He vanished into the kitchen again.

"Your beard looks nice," she offered.

"You can't suck up to me with facts!" he countered, but she could tell he was smiling.

She heard the kettle whistling. When he returned to the living room he was carrying two mugs of tea. Once he'd set them on the table he took up his spot next to her on the couch again.

"Were you worried?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, I just don't want you to get overwhelmed, that's all."

x

It hadn't even occurred to her to take a pregnancy test.

It was only a couple of months after Gran's funeral. Katara had just returned home from helping the Ba Sing Se branch with some mining litigation in Omashu. She thought she'd picked up a stomach bug. When her doctor asked when she had her last period, it was like he'd thrown a bucket of ice water over her, her brain freezing to a halt. She couldn't find an answer. She went directly home after her appointment and sat at the kitchen table with tea she never drank.

One night in the early days, when Aang was still working for her, Katara made some joke about how he could write off a vasectomy as a business expense. He laughed but then blushed a little. He told her he wanted to have kids eventually. She was surprised, but then after a moment of consideration, not surprised at all.

They revisited the topic once they started dating. Ultimately, the conversation was hypothetical and nebulous, heavy with the word 'someday' and nameless contingencies. Aang wasn't in a rush in any case. Katara could imagine having children but the version of herself she saw doing it felt fuzzy around the edges and unreal.

She sat at the table and thought about breaking up with Aang. She thought about moving out of the house, transferring to Ba Sing Se. Anything to avoid burdening him with her decision, whatever it ended up being.

When Aang arrived home from work half an hour later, she was still in the kitchen. He was in sweats with his bag slung over his shoulder, sorting through the mail he'd just brought in.

"Hey, you're home early," he remarked without looking up. She didn't respond and he glanced over at her. When he saw how pale and tense she was, his brow furrowed. He set down the envelope he'd just opened. "Everything okay?"

Katara bit the inside of her lip, hands tightening around the mug she was holding. The contents had long since gone cold.

"I - " her voice was creaky and hesitant. She cleared her throat, looked up at him and took a deep breath. "Sit down, Aang."

He set his bag down and sat across from her at the table. She licked her lips, avoiding his eyes. Looking down at her hands, she swallowed in a dry throat.

"I'm pregnant," she said. She bit her lip again, worrying at it a little with her front teeth. She didn't want to cry but the bridge of her nose burned and she knew she was not going to be able to stop it for long. She looked across the table at Aang. He couldn't have been more stunned if she'd physically struck him. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and he sat back in his chair.

"When?" he finally breathed, dazed. She didn't have an answer for this and responded with a helpless shrug. He pressed his palm to his forehead before running it across his head to the back of his neck, his nervous tell. He gestured to her, "But you're on the pill. I saw you take it this morning."

Her gaze dropped back down to the table and a grimace flashed across her face like a spasm."I must have missed some after - " she knew what she should say: _after Gran died._ The words wouldn't come out. "When I was in the South," she mumbled. This was so inadequate. It didn't come close to expressing what she really wanted to say. The days surrounding Gran's death were a blur, her memory smudged with grief. Everything else felt so trivial at the time. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for this disastrous, irrevocable error. Katara didn't know how she could possibly say all of this in a way that felt like it mattered. The damage was done.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, hating how small and timid her voice sounded. She looked at him again and her eyes brimmed with tears. His shoulders sagged and he got out of his chair to come around the table. He crouched next to her and let his hand rest on her knee.

"Katara, no, of course not. We both knew - " he sighed. "I'm not mad." She nodded and he squeezed her knee. She wiped at her eyes and he stood.

"Let's go lay down," he suggested.

"Okay."

They took refuge in their bedroom, cocooned in each other's arms. They didn't talk at first. Aang stared at the ceiling and Katara stared at the wall.

"What are we supposed to do?" Katara finally whispered. Aang kissed the top of her head.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

She sat up with her back to him and shook her head. After a moment of silence she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging her legs. She felt sweaty and anxious. A headache was prickling up from the base of her skull and she closed her eyes for a moment, giving into the sharp distraction of physical pain, trying to clear her mind.

"You know I didn't do this on purpose, right? That I didn't do this behind your back or anything?"

"I know," he reassured her. Sitting up behind her, he ran his fingertips gently down her spine. He laid his hand flat on her back and could feel her heartbeat, rapid and hard inside her. She felt fragile and tired. It was too soon. Too soon after her grandmother, too soon for them.

"I thought about breaking up with you," she whispered. His fingers twitched and she winced, wondering why she had even said this aloud.

"Oh," he said. The silence between them was tense and finally, his voice heavy with reluctance he said, "I understand if…" He hesitated and she turned around to face him. "Maybe you want to do this but not with me?"

Katara wanted to be able to say what she thought was the right thing: That a mistake didn't obligate him. That the responsibility didn't have to be his to bear. She wanted to be brave enough for this, for both of them. She shrank into herself.

"This is the rest of our lives, Aang. If we're going to give that to each other, I want it to be because we want to, not because we have to." There was a swell of tears in her voice and she looked away from him. Her words came out in a rush, trying to get ahead of the sob that was building in her chest. "And I'm sorry, because I know I should tell you that I'll let you go if you don't want to do this. And I can't, I - "

He didn't let her finish, pulling her onto his lap, into a fierce embrace. Her arms went around him and a sob spilled out of her. She took a breath to calm herself and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

"I love you, too." He kissed her forehead."Katara, whatever you want to do, I'll be here for it. If you don't want - " He stopped mid sentence and doubled back, "If you want to do this, I will be here, even if things don't work out between us." He released her and sat back so they could see each other's faces. Katara wiped at her eyes and folded her legs, their knees touching.

"Have you ever gotten someone pregnant before?" she asked. She wasn't sure what answer would be better, that he'd been through this before or that he was as lost as she was.

He took a deep breath, "This is the first time," he said. She felt a rush of relief. Knowing his outward composure was probably hiding just as much turmoil as she was experiencing made her feel a bit better about her uncertainty.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Aang brushed her hair back and sighed. "I'm worried." He looked into her eyes, "I'm worried about you. About us." He paused, "What about you?"

Katara's answer came out before she could reconsider it. "I'm thinking about Gran. And my mom." She ran her fingers through her hair, unsure why this admission made her so uncomfortable. "I want to have a family of my own and I'm afraid if I keep waiting I'll wait forever and I don't want to do that." She made a little frustrated sound. "Are my priorities completely screwed up?" she asked.

He cocked his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, "It's just…. I always thought if I had kids, I would want them to grow up how I did, with someone home for them. And I can't be that person. I wish I could but I can't."

Aang considered this in silence, his gray eyes unfocused. There was a slight, unconscious pout to his lips, a faint crease between his brows. He blinked and their eyes met.

"I could," he said.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What?"

"I could," he repeated, "I could be at home. Here."

Katara leaned forward slightly, fingers clenched in the blanket beneath them. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she drew in a lungful of air.

"Wait, really? Are you serious about this?"

"Yeah," he replied, laughing a little, almost as if he couldn't quite believe it himself, "I am." His fingers skimmed across his scalp, "I mean, I look at our budget, too. Losing my income wouldn't be ideal but we could manage."

Katara's elation was replaced almost immediately by guilt. She shook her head.

"Aang, you love your job at the RCB so much. I know you do. How could I ask you to give that up? How can I ask you to do this again?"

"You could ask me for this," he said simply. "And I could go back to teaching part time in a few years, once they were in school. Right? It wouldn't be forever." She just stared at him and he blushed, "If you think it's a bad idea I - "

"No," she interrupted, her voice quiet. "I'm just…" she trailed off.

"It's too much to expect from you though, isn't it?" he asked, self conscious and backtracking now. "I can't ask you to support both of us."

"You could ask me for this," she whispered, echoing him. He smiled and she laughed a little.

Aang shrugged. "I think we'd be good parents. I think I'd be a good dad. I hope I would be."

Now she was blushing, "I think you would be, too," she murmured. She sat up, hugging herself, feeling strangely awkward. "Do you want to have a baby with me?" she asked.

He looked away and back, smiling bashfully. "Yeah. I do."

xXXx

Katara turned her head to look at Aang, sitting next to her on the couch. His eyes were still on their son and she thought he looked a little melancholy. There was a soft smile on his face but something in his eyes looked sad. He realized she was watching him and met her gaze.

"I'm really glad we decided to do this," he murmured. She gave a lopsided smile.

"Well I certainly hope so because we can't return him," she joked.

He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her. He let his forehead rest against hers.

"Not just Bumi," he said, "All of it. I'm glad you're here, I'm glad about us." He hesitated and then added, "I'm glad we're a family."

Katara felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and kissed him once lightly, then again, a little more fully.

"Me, too," she whispered back, her eyes closed.

Bumi pulled away from her nipple with a grunt of irritation and let out a tiny squawk of protest. Katara gave a watery laugh and looked back down at him, "You are spoiling the moment, buddy," she scolded. She glanced at Aang, who smiled and sat back so that she had room to switch sides. Once Bumi latched on again, Katara leaned into Aang, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"Hey, Katara?" His voice was low and soft.

"Hmm?"

"Let's get married," he said.

She smiled and nodded without opening her eyes, running her fingers through Bumi's soft, dark hair, "Okay," she replied.

He put his arm around her again, kissing her temple."Okay," he whispered back, his lips brushing her skin.

She turned her head to look at him, her tone serious. "I don't really care what we do for the wedding but I have very strong opinions about our honeymoon."

He grinned. "Oh?"

She smiled back, biting her lip a little. "The Park Hotel? Where we met? We could book the penthouse and stay the weekend. Leave Bumi with my dad."

"Ooohhh. Yes. Sold."

She sat back and closed her eyes again. "Will you bring that suit? The dark gray one?"

"Obviously."


	17. The End

"Bumi! Did you brush your teeth yet, buddy?"

Bumi came careening into the bathroom where Aang stood behind Kya, brushing her hair. He put his hands on his hips.

"It's the last day of school before summer vacation, I don't need to brush my teeth," Bumi replied.

"I disagree, sir," Aang replied. He set the brush down and began braiding Kya's hair. "Please take care of it."

Bumi groaned and clambered up onto the counter. He seized his toothbrush and perched like a gargoyle next to the sink. He was tall for eight, taller than Aang had been at his age. He rested his arms on his knobbly knees.

"Dad, why are you doing that?" he asked.

"I wanted him to because I want to look pretty for the last day of school," Kya replied, her tiny voice soft and still a little sleepy. She jammed her thumb into her mouth and Aang reached around and pulled it gently out. She put her hands behind her back, offering a sly smile at his reflection. He smiled back at her. Bumi crammed his toothbrush - now loaded with an excess of toothpaste - into his mouth, still watching his father intently.

"When is Mom coming home?" He asked, his voice muffled past a mouthful of bubbles.

"Tonight," Aang reminded him.

"Are we picking her up at the airport?" Bumi asked. Aang nodded and Bumi leaned over and spit into the sink, then turned the water on to rinse his toothbrush, "After bedtime?" He clarified hopefully. Aang hummed an affirmation and Bumi held up his arms, hands clenched into fists.

"Pajama party in the car!" He cried victoriously.

"No popcorn this time," Aang said and Bumi let out a disappointed groan. Aang shook his head, "That is the price you pay for Popcorn Wars." He glanced at his son, "Are you excited for mom to come home?"

Bumi nodded, "Yes but," he held up his hand, as if he were taking an oath of some sort, pausing for emphasis, "I like when mom is home but you make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast when she's gone."

"You're awfully chatty about these chocolate chips we agreed to keep secret," Aang said lightly.

Bumi turned and stretched his toes out to find the floor before dropping off of the counter, "My friend at school says we're weird." He stood beside his sister, looking at Aang's reflection in the mirror. Aang arched an eyebrow.

"That's not a very nice thing for a friend to say," he observed. Bumi nodded.

"I know but his dad goes to work every day and doesn't have any tattoos and also he has never heard of a dad who does ballet."

"Sounds more like he thinks I'm weird," Aang offered."What do you think?"

"You are not weird," Bumi reassured him, "this kid, though," he went on, and Aang had to hold back a grin at his pitch perfect impression of Sokka. "he keeps asking so many questions! Like why Mom goes away sometimes and why you do our field trips instead of her."

"Well," Aang began, "Did you tell him your mom has a really important job? A lot of people need her help with things and sometimes she has to go where they are to do it. And that means I get to stay home and take care of you guys which is pretty great for me."

"Because we're fun!" Kya piped up.

"Exactly," Aang agreed, "You're all done, Kya. Go get your shoes on, please. Bumi, you too."

Bumi tore out of the room and Kya hopped off of the stool. She spun to face him. "Am I beautiful?" She asked with a wide smile, exposing her missing front teeth.

Aang chuckled, "Always, but do you know what I love most about you? How smart and compassionate you are."

She wrinkled her nose, "What does that mean?"

He glanced at his watch, "Wow, Daddy started this conversation before coffee. Why would I do that? Let's talk about it in the car," he said.

"Wait. Daddy." She held up her index finger, suddenly very serious, "I have to tell you something."

He crouched so they were at eye level and she took his face between her small hands.

"Dancing is very important," she said sternly. He grinned and kissed her on the forehead.

"I think so, too, sweetheart," he replied. He caught her around the waist and pulled her up onto his hip as he stood, then boosted her up onto his back and made his way toward the front door.

"Can we go to the studio instead of school?" she hissed in his ear. He laughed.

"Oh, I see what's going on now. Nice try, but no." He squatted down so she could hop off of his back.

"Can we have sleepovers in the studio this summer?" she asked hopefully.

"I believe I promised a sleepover pizza party in the studio if your teachers said you were good for the rest of the year. You kept up your end of the bargain," he reminded her.

"Bumi is not allowed," she said firmly.

"Bumi is definitely allowed," Aang corrected as he tied her shoes. "but I think he'll leave immediately after the pizza is gone."

Kya wrinkled her nose, "Bumi likes anchovies," she muttered.

"I can promise an anchovy-free pizza party," Aang glanced around and took his keys from the hook by the door, "Bumi! Come on, dude. Let's get a move on."

Bumi skidded in from the hallway and Aang raised his eyebrows.

"Hey," he pointed to the mat by the door. "Shoes, please. Now. And you're not a hogmonkey. It's too early for you to tear around the house like this."

"Daddy hasn't had coffee!" Kya scolded.

"Yeah, that," Aang muttered, pointing in Kya's direction. He opened the door as Bumi shoved his feet into his battered sneakers and ushered the children down the steps toward the car.

"Hey, Dad?" Bumi began.

"Yeah, buddy," Aang replied as he locked the door.

"Are we going to see Grandpa this weekend?"

Aang pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, "He is back from his hunting trip so yes, he will be over for dinner tomorrow. And actually he agreed to take you guys home with him after for a visit so you'll get to hang out with him for a couple of days."

Bumi made a face, "So you and Mom can have time alone?" he asked dramatically, sounding both resentful and disgusted.

"Stop acting like you know what that means," Aang said, opening the car door for Kya.

"What does it mean?" she asked as she clambered inside.

Aang took a deep breath and blew it out, "Didn't I say we were going to talk about compassion?" Kya nodded."Let's tackle that first." Once both of the children were securely buckled in, Aang got into the car and started it.

"Dad, family dinner is at our house tomorrow?" Bumi asked.

"Correct," Aang replied as they pulled out of the driveway. Bumi groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

"Does that mean it's going to be vegetarian?" he whined, already knowing the answer. "Dad, no. Uncle Sokka told me mom used to eat meat all the time before she met you."

"Yes, I'm a terrible influence," Aang agreed. "I'm sure your grandpa has jerky to share from his trip. I will text him and ask him to bring some so you don't wither away at the table."

"Jerky," Bumi hissed triumphantly.

When they pulled up to the curb at the elementary school, Aang parked the car and turned to look into the backseat. Bumi reached over to unbuckle Kya's booster seat. He opened the door to get out.

"We have some errands to run this afternoon so please stick together at pickup, okay?" Aang pointed a knowing look toward Bumi, "I don't want to have to hunt either of you down."

"Okay," Kya chirped, oblivious to the fact that she was not really the intended recipient of these instructions. She scooted across the seat to follow her brother, who was waiting for her on the curb. He extended his hand to help her out of the car. With a ferocious shove from both hands, she closed the door behind her.

"Hey, you guys?" Aang called after them, rolling down the passenger window. They both looked into the car at him. "Tell your teachers thank you for all of their hard work this year." Bumi pulled a face and Aang smiled. "Bumi, if you don't want to tell her, tell her I said thank you, okay?"

"Okay," Bumi drawled with an amused roll of his eyes, accustomed to these edicts.

"Have a good day, you two," Aang said. "Love you."

With a synchronized _I love you, too_ , both children turned and jogged toward the building. Aang watched them until they were inside.

xXXx

The kitchen was a cacophony of overlapping conversations. Sokka and Aang chopped vegetables while Hakoda regaled Bumi and Kya with stories of his trip. He'd brought them both wooden elk toys a friend of his in the South had carved. Katara and Suki were studying one of them, Katara with a certain measure of nostalgia. She and Sokka had similar toys as children.

"Hey, Twinkletoes!" a voice called from the door, "We're here!"

Aang wiped his hands and went to meet Toph in the living room. She was removing her shoes. Behind her, young man with a woolly crew cut and a scruffy, square jaw was closing the door.

"Hey, you finally brought him," Aang said, crossing the room to pull Toph into a hug. His arms still around his friend, he reached out to offer his hand.

"Hi, Kanto. I haven't seen you since you finished the mural on the back wall of the gallery. It's really impressive."

"Thank you!" Kanto replied with a grin, his eyes drilling meaningfully into the back of Toph's head. "She still keeps telling me no one's noticed it."

Toph gestured to Aang as he released her from his embrace."What does he know? Look at that thing on his face. He obviously just came down from the mountains."

"Eight years, Toph," Aang reminded her with a roll of his eyes. "I've had it for eight years." He gestured to them. "Come on in. Dinner is probably about twenty minutes out."

Aang looked at his family later, sitting around the table together. It was the only piece of his parents' furniture he kept, in the end, and nights like this made him happy he had. Kya and Bumi chased each other's toy elk back and forth across it. Toph ran her fingertips along a gouge in the surface that for all Aang knew she had put there when they were children. Kanto whispered something to her and she smiled and shrugged, blushing a little. Sokka slapped his palm down next to his plate for emphasis as he said something to Hakoda, shaking his head. Suki rolled her eyes and it was probably fortunate for Sokka that her mouth was full of rice.

"You okay?" Katara murmured to him, noticing how quiet he'd grown. He glanced over at her, squeezing her hand as he cast his gaze around the table again.

"Yeah," he said, nodding."I'm great."

x

They made their way to the living room after dinner to visit. They'd settled into a comfortable routine with family dinners and these nights often ran late, past Kya and Bumi's bedtimes. It wasn't long before Kya was half asleep in her grandfather's lap, head against his chest. Hakoda glanced at his watch.

"Well," he said, "I suppose we should get going soon." Aang nodded.

"I'll go get their bags, they're ready to go." He was about to stand when Katara stopped him.

"Before anyone goes anywhere, we have some news, actually," she said. Aang slid his arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She glanced around the room and when she saw Kya and Bumi were paying attention, too, she smiled. "We're having another baby."

Hakoda's face lit up and he set Kya down to stand. Katara met him with a hug. Sokka and Suki offered their excited congratulations almost in unison, Sokka leaning in from the armchair he and Suki we sharing to shake Aang's hand. Kya looked delighted, although it was obvious she was sleepy and struggling to process what exactly was going on. Bumi was sitting bolt upright.

"Mom really? Is it a boy or a girl?"

Aang chuckled, "We won't know for a while yet, Boom."

Toph and Kanto both sat cross legged on the floor across the coffee table from Aang and Katara.

"Huh. That's a funny coincidence," Toph said. Aang turned away from Sokka to face her, confused, eyes narrowed slightly.

"How's that?" he asked.

"Oh, uh," Toph jabbed her thumb in Kanto's direction. "We're having one, too."

Aang stared at Toph in stunned silence, his eyes slowly widening. Everyone else turned to face her, as well, and Kanto blushed furiously. Toph was smirking in Aang's direction. He opened his mouth but nothing came out and he closed it again.

"Did he faint?" Toph asked the silent room and Sokka laughed.

"Not quite." he said.

"Toph!" Aang finally blurted, "Are you serious right now?"

"Is this the sort of thing I would lie to you about?" she asked, doing her best to sound wounded.

"In fact, it is the exact sort of thing you would lie to me about," he deadpanned.

"It's true," Kanto confirmed.

"Toph, congratulations!" Katara said. A grin spread across Aang's face and he left the couch to kneel next to Toph and sweep her into a hug.

"This is the best!" he said enthusiastically. Kanto looked relieved.

"So many playdates," Suki intoned to Katara, as if she were offering condolences, "Clear your calendar now." Aang sat back on his heels, pointing at Toph.

"Your kid is taking dance lessons from me. That is not optional."

"I'd much rather you taught her jiu jitsu," Toph replied tartly.

"Why not both?" Suki offered. "Dancing is good background for martial arts."

Toph seemed to consider this for a moment."I could live with that."

"Yes," Aang agreed, "Good."

Kanto frowned, "Are you - are you guys talking about a baby, or an assassin you're planning on training together?" he asked. Toph raised her eyebrows and her face broke into a wide smile.

"This is the best," she said appreciatively.

xXXx

Katara and Aang lay in bed together later. The house was silent, empty but for the two of them. They had taken full advantage of this rare privacy pretty much immediately, knowing the odds of it actually lasting were slim. Now they were making idle conversation, on their sides facing each other. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Toph is having a baby," Aang said in disbelief.

"Yes, I know," Katara replied with a smile, "I was there when she told you."

"Were any of us actually there or was it some sort of bizarre group hallucination?"

Katara laughed and pinched his arm. He shied away with a chuckle. "I can assure you it really happened." She leaned in and kissed him. "We're having a baby," she reminded him. He smiled and she pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"I've been thinking. About names."

He grinned, "Already? It's only been six days since we found out." He reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She shrugged, "I've been thinking about it ever since we decided to start trying again. I thought we should name this one after your parents. If that's okay with you."

Aang didn't speak for a moment, obviously moved. He cleared his throat. "Okay," he said, his response coming out a little husky. "I mean," he went on, his voice gaining strength, "I'd really like that." Katara kissed him again.

"I wish I could thank them," she whispered to him, "For you." His cheeks reddened a little and she went on, "I feel lucky every day," she murmured. "When we found out for sure I was pregnant, that was my first thought, that you've been so selfless for our family."

They looked into each other's eyes. Aang thought of them all sitting around the kitchen table together. Sometimes the impossibility of it all caught him off guard, that despite everything they were all here, together. Katara's eyes were bright and blue, the same eyes their children had, and sometimes when he looked at them he felt his breath catch with awe.

Aang pulled Katara close, burying his face in her hair. He kissed the top of her head.

"I think it's the most selfish thing I've ever done," he whispered.


	18. Bonus Chapter: Tenzin

He was exhausted.

The room was dark, the only light a dim one above Katara's bed, so the nurses could see when they came in to check on her. There were monitors beeping, constant and rhythmic. She was resting comfortably. Still, Aang couldn't sleep.

Usually when there was some medical crisis in their family, Aang thought of his mother. When Bumi broke his arm the year before, when Kya had that terrifying fever when she was two. He'd wished she could be there, to offer her comforting presence, to explain things in that gentle, confident way she always had. Had he been forced to guess who he would think of in this situation, he would have said his mother, without hesitation.

Instead, holding Katara's hand between his, running his thumbs gently back and forth across her fingers, Aang missed his father.

He could picture him sitting at his desk in the study, writing. He could be found there more often than not when he was home, working on research papers or grading or corresponding with faraway colleagues. Whenever he was interrupted he would always take a moment to finish whatever word or phrase he was in the middle of, then set down his pen and look up. It never seemed to matter what he was doing, how important it was, when Aang came to the door he would meet his eyes, peering over his reading glasses with a smile. He looked almost relieved in those moments, as if he were secretly hoping for a distraction from his work. His father had been a quiet man, intelligent and introspective. He had not been the type to ramble, to fill silences with chitchat.

They were coming home from a conference where his mother was a keynote speaker. They had dinner with friends and were on their way back into the city when the accident happened. When the police came to Aang's apartment it was late. Their sharp, insistent knocking dragged him reluctantly out of bed, away from Ty Lee and into the harsh light of the hallway. As soon as he saw it was the police, saw their tight, uncomfortable expressions, he knew.

At the morgue, they'd only shown him his father's face. The rest of him was covered with a fresh white sheet. They had done their best to clean him up but there were still specks of blood on his cheeks and a streak in his beard. His mother was dead by the time they reached the hospital but his father hung on, despite his injuries. Hung on long enough to make it into surgery but not through it. He looked like he was sleeping, about to open his eyes and offer a weary smile.

Aang sat next to Katara's bed. He held her hand. The monitors were beeping. The steadiness of the sound might have been reassuring. Instead, it made him edgy and anxious. It filled him with a creeping dread that seeped up from some dark corner of his memory. The audible representation of her heartbeat had an undercurrent of ominous suggestion to it. Each pause between beats was a reminder that it could stop. The doctors said she was going to be fine, but it was almost easier to worry about her. It was less abstract than worrying about the baby, who he still had not even touched.

x

Katara wasn't sure whether or not her water had broken until it became terrifyingly obvious her water had broken. She was only thirty four weeks along, still over a month from her due date. It was 2 AM and they had to pull Kya and Bumi, groggy and confused, from their beds to put them into the car. Katara sent frantic texts as they drove to the hospital, trying not to let her panic show. She called the midwife, then Hakoda and Sokka, and Aang drove faster than he probably should have.

After the privacy and relative tranquility of Kya's birth, at the house, in their bedroom, the hospital was jarring. It was sterile and impersonal and Aang thought he might have been disappointed if he had room for it. He watched from the other side of the room while Katara was put into a gown and hooked up to an IV, trying to stay out of the way and feeling helpless. He held Kya, who stared around, wide eyed, her thumb in her mouth. Bumi sat in a chair in the corner, his legs curled up to his chest. The tension in the room was heavy and both of them, ordinarily cheerful and curious, were withdrawn and silent. When the midwife called to check on them on her way in, Aang was grateful for the distraction.

Sokka arrived a while later, and Aang ushered the children out to the waiting room to meet him. He kissed Kya on the forehead and passed her to her uncle, whispered reassurances to both children. He wasn't sure he even believed what he was saying, himself. He returned to the room, where Katara was already in labor.

Everything was happening much too quickly.

Once the baby was out, the doctor and nurses huddled around him for a cursory examination, then wheeled him out of the room. The nurse stopped for the briefest moment beside the bed so that they could see him, swaddled in a blanket, his scrunched, pink face the only part of him visible. Then he was gone.

Katara was able to focus long enough to deliver the placenta, but as the doctor examined her after, her composure began to waver. Once they were finally left alone in the room, waiting without answers in the stark tension of uncertainty, everything seemed to come to a screeching halt.

Aang sat next to her on the bed, his arms around her while she cried. Her sobs were weak and exhausted and it wasn't long before she didn't have the energy for it any longer. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you," he murmured. He had no idea what else he could say. Her arms tightened around him. "Can I get you anything?"

"Will you see if my dad is here yet?" she mumbled, her voice stuffy. He rubbed her arm and nodded.

"Sure. Do you want me to send Sokka in, too?"

She nodded back, sniffling a little.

"Okay," he replied, a little relieved to have some task he could accomplish, however mundane. He kissed her on the forehead once again before releasing her and standing, "I'll be right back."

She leaned into the pillows, curling in on herself. She avoided his eyes.

The waiting room was close by and when Aang rounded the corner to enter it, he sought out his children first. They were on one of the couches together, Bumi wedged against the arm and Kya leaning against him, both asleep. Bumi's hair stood up in an untidy, dark mop. Their shoes were on the floor nearby. A coat was draped over them and Aang recognized it.

Sokka was coming toward him but Aang felt a rush of relief at the sight of Hakoda, directly behind him.

"Katara's asking for you guys," he said, his voice low to avoid waking the children. "She's in room 307." Sokka nodded and walked by, toward the room. He expected Hakoda to follow, but instead he nodded past him and the two of them moved into the hallway. He stood in front of Aang to look him in the eyes.

"Is Katara all right?" he asked.

Aang gave a tight nod and swallowed, "Yeah. She probably has to stay for a few days but the doctors said she's going to be okay."

Hakoda laid his hands on his shoulders. "And Tenzin?" he asked.

It was the first time anyone had said his name aloud since their arrival at the hospital. Aang's throat tightened and he cleared it.

"Uh," his voice was wobbly, "I don't really know. I mean, they haven't told us anything yet and - " His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Hakoda sighed and pulled him into an embrace, a reassuring hand on his back. Aang leaned into his shoulder, muffling a sob there, hoping it would not carry into the waiting room.

"It's going to be all right, son," Hakoda said gently.

x

After assurances from their midwife that Tenzin was stable, (and with the help of some medication pushed through her IV), Katara finally managed to fall asleep. Hakoda offered to take the children and he and Sokka left, promising to return the next day.

It was nearly seven in the morning.

A nurse entered the room with Katara's chart, making notes and checking her monitors, her IV. She stood there, once she'd finished, watching him. Every time she came into the room to check on Katara, she had also looked after him, asking how he was, whether he needed anything. An hour ago she'd brought him juice and graham crackers.

"Have you slept?" she whispered, though she already knew the answer. He met her eyes and smiled weakly, shaking his head. She frowned but didn't respond, then left the room.

A few minutes later, another nurse he didn't recognize stepped into the room and gestured to him from the doorway. When he joined her in the hall, she turned and started walking so he followed, jogging a few steps to keep up with her. As they walked she said, "We could use your help in the NICU."

x

Katara was confused and thirsty when she woke, and the first thing she noticed was that Aang was not in the room. The sun was streaming through the windows. A nurse was standing beside her bed, making notes on her chart.

"Sorry," she apologized, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What time is it?" Katara mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Almost eight. My shift just started a while ago."

"Do you know where my husband is?"

The nurse gave a little smile, "I do, as a matter of fact. How are you feeling? Up to taking a ride down the hall?"

It took probably more than ten minutes for them to finally reach their destination, delayed by wrangling IVs and an unsteady trip to the bathroom before they even made it into the hall. By the time her nurse pushed her wheelchair into the NICU and helped Katara wash her hands, it was a little after eight.

"Rounds are starting soon," she was saying, her voice low as they made their way toward the back of the unit, "We'll have to wake him up, anyway."

In the corner, Aang slept in a recliner next to an empty incubator. He had a blanket over his shoulders. There was another one tucked around him, holding Tenzin in place on his bare chest. His hand was resting on the baby's back, carefully placed to avoid the leads and tubes attached to him. Katara's eyes stung with tears and she sighed, swallowed them down as best she could. She looked up at the nurse.

"How long has he been here?" she whispered.

"About an hour. It was the night nurse's idea. He sat up all night, I think he was too worried to sleep." She gave Katara a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiled.

Katara returned her attention to Aang. Tenzin had pushed his arm out from under the blanket. His tiny hand was curled into a loose fist on Aang's chest. They looked peaceful. There were monitors beeping, constant and rhythmic.

xXXx

Aang wondered if Bumi noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

Only three days had passed since Tenzin was born but he was sure it felt longer to Bumi and Kya, who spent most of the time with their grandfather. They stayed home from school the day after and told him they were allowed to sleep in and spend the rest of the day watching cartoons. But in an effort to maintain some sense of normalcy, they'd returned to class for the end of the week. It was the weekend and Katara was being discharged. Sokka, Suki and Kya were at the house, cleaning and prepping for everyone's return. At Aang's request, Hakoda brought Bumi to the hospital, which was how they came to be standing beside Tenzin's incubator. Bumi looked up at his father, who gave a nod of unspoken permission. He pressed his fingertips hesitantly to the plexiglass, eyes traveling from his baby brother's face to his tiny feet and back, taking in the sight of the leads and sensors and IVs.

"Why is there a tube on his face?" he asked.

Aang rubbed his back gently, "That's to help him breathe," he explained.

Bumi was quiet for a moment. "There's a lot of tubes," he finally murmured.

"Yeah," Aang agreed softly.

"Do they hurt him?"

"No," he sighed, "He's probably not very comfortable but he's not in pain."

They couldn't stay long and when they'd stepped out into the hallway, Bumi tugged his hand, guiding him a few feet away from the door. Aang turned to face him and crouched so they were at eye level. Bumi avoided his gaze, looking down at the floor, nibbling at his lip. His cheeks were a little pink and Aang could tell he was trying not to cry.

"What is it, Boom?" he asked, his voice low.

Bumi hesitated for a moment. He shrugged. Aang had never really appreciated what an adult gesture this was and wondered when Bumi had even started doing it. He expected to have to contain him a bit for the visit to the NICU, since he was normally so boisterous and inquisitive. Instead, he was surprisingly reserved and unusually quiet.

His son leaned in and cupped his hand around his ear to whisper to him, as if worried his voice might carry.

"Is Tenzin going to die?" he whispered.

Aang could not prevent the pained little groan from escaping him as he gathered Bumi up in his arms. His son buried his face in his neck and Aang squeezed him as tightly as he could.

"No, kiddo, he's going to be okay," Aang said. "He needs to be here another week or so and then he's coming home. He just has to put on some more weight and learn to eat a little better." He sat back on his heels to look into Bumi's eyes and rubbed his arms, "Are you okay?"

Bumi wiped at his face with the backs of his hands and nodded.

"Are you bringing Kya to meet him soon?" he asked.

"Yeah. Probably tomorrow."

Bumi frowned, "Can I come, too? Because I think - " he scratched his nose, fidgeting, "When Kya's scared and I hold her hand it makes her feel better sometimes and I think…don't you think she'll be scared, a little?"

Aang drew in a breath, his astonishment leaving him momentarily speechless. He had come to expect this uncanny perceptiveness from Kya long ago, but it was less common from Bumi. Both children were sensitive and caring but Bumi was more likely to shape it into directness and conceal it in jokes. He was a great deal like his uncle that way. Aang squeezed his shoulder.

"You're probably right. I bet she would feel a lot better to have her big brother with her." He kissed him on the forehead and Bumi wrinkled his nose momentarily in embarrassment, though he smiled. "You've been really brave today, buddy. I'm proud of you."

Bumi took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky, weary sigh, as if he was relieved this conversation was behind them.

"Thanks, Dad. I'm proud of you, too," he joked.

Aang chuckled and ruffled his hair, "All right, smart aleck. Let's go see your mom."

Katara was relieved to see her eldest, who she could trap in a fierce hug, reveling in the affirmation of his lanky strength. Aang sat in a chair in the corner of the room, filling out some paperwork on a clipboard. Bumi squirmed and twisted his way out of her grip with a grunt to stand at her bedside.

"Mom, can we bake a cake when Tenzin comes home? With his name on it?"

Katara laughed, "You need to talk to your dad about that. He's the master baker in this family."

Bumi turned, "Can we, Dad?"

Aang set the pen down on the clipboard and looked up at his son, into his bright eyes. Even though he was tired and his shoulders were tight with tension, Bumi's smile was infectious and Aang couldn't help but return it.

"I think that's a great idea," he said.


	19. Bonus Chapter: Prelude

The notification light on his phone was blinking.

Aang sat up in bed and glanced around. He was alone in the room. There were little noises in the kitchen, the sounds of Jin making a late night cup of tea and trying to be quiet about it. Aang picked up his phone. It was 1 AM. There was an email from his answering service.

"5PM, Friday

Katara, referred by Tran D.

Would like to schedule as soon as possible"

At the end of the message was her phone number. Aang read it through again, brows furrowed, trying to remember the last referral he'd gotten from Tran, whether it had been any good.

He got out of bed and pulled on the sweatpants Jin had loaned him. Their appointment wasn't supposed to have been an overnight but Jin was having a bad week and ultimately didn't want to spend the night alone. Aang went to the kitchen where he was leaning against the counter, a mug in his hands. His dark hair was ruffled and he winced when Aang came into the room, squinting against the lights.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

Aang yawned, rubbing his eyes, "Nah, I think it was my phone," He cocked his head slightly, "Everything okay?"

Jin nodded and set his mug down. He moved closer and slid his arms around Aang's waist, leaning his head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for staying," he murmured, "Sorry if I screwed up your night."

"I told you I didn't have anything else scheduled," Aang reassured him. He draped his arms across Jin's shoulders and buried one of his hands in his untidy mop of hair. He hesitated, "Have you found a new doctor yet?" he asked gently.

"Not yet," Jin mumbled, "I had a consultation scheduled earlier this week but I canceled it."

Aang sighed, "You _have_ to find someone before your meds run out," he urged, "I'll go with you if you need me to. Or Toph will, she's good for that sort of thing. She comes with me when I get my labs done sometimes." He pulled away to cup Jin's face, looking into his eyes, "I like you," he said, his voice firm, "but I am not a psychiatrist."

Jin chuckled, "You would be the most inappropriate psychiatrist ever," he agreed, trying to hold back a smile.

Aang put his hands on his hips and nodded to the side, toward the bedroom, "Let's go back to bed," he said.

Jin shrugged, "You can go if you want. I'm not really tired."

Aang grinned, " _That_ I can help you with."

x

He called Tran the next morning. They'd always gotten along well. Aang thought he was a little unconventional looking for the industry but it worked for him. He was barrel chested and looked imposing in a suit. Aang knew him well enough to know he was a night owl and was surprised when he answered right away. He hadn't expected to hear back from him until the afternoon. His baritone voice was a little sleepy but still cheerful.

"Aang. How's it going?"

"Pretty good," he replied, retrieving a notepad and pencil from a nearby drawer. He sat at the kitchen table.

"It's been a while." Tran said.

Aang leaned on his elbow, "When _was_ the last time I saw you? It was at the opera wasn't it?"

"You're breaking my heart," Tran drawled.

They'd bumped into each other by happenstance a couple of months prior. The Beifongs had a private box at the Republic City Opera and it was a family tradition to go to the opening night of the season together - Toph had invited Aang along. Tran was there working and they spotted each other during intermission. They'd greeted each other in low voices before going their separate ways.

"Sorry," Aang said, "My schedule lately has been insane. It's all kind of a blur."

There was a chuckle of understanding on the other end of the line. "It's fine. What can I do for you?"

Aang made a note on the pad, "Who's Katara?"

"Oh!" Tran said, "Is she only just calling you? I gave her your number last month. I think you'll like her. She's pretty easy but she wants more time than I can give her."

Aang groaned and shook his head, "I don't know if _I_ even have the time right now. My docket of regulars is pretty full."

"Meet her before you decide. She's hot, smart. I'm not sure what she does for a living but she's always wearing suits. She doesn't put up with any bullshit. Seems like your type." Tran paused, "I'm thinking more and more about going independent."

Aang sat back in his chair, "Good for you."

"Thanks. I was kind of hoping I could sit down with you and get some advice. I know you're busy."

"No, I could make the time." He mulled this over for a moment in silence and realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a chance to spend time with one of his peers and talk about work. He vented to Toph sometimes but it wasn't the same as talking to someone who had the same professional shorthand, who didn't need things explained just to get the conversion on even ground. "That sounds great, actually." He drummed his fingers on the table, hesitating, "You could come over to my place," he offered, "We could have dinner."

"Now I'm beginning to sense an ulterior motive," Tran said, sounding more pleased than this statement should have allowed.

Aang tipped his head back, eyes closed, wondering why he had even considered being ambiguous about this, "It's been three months since I've had sex with someone who wasn't paying me," he explained.

"Ugh," was the reply, weary and sympathetic, "Are you busy tonight?"

"I have nothing," Aang confirmed, sitting up again, looking down at the nearly blank notepad in front of him. The only thing he'd written was 'Katara?'. He frowned.

"Six? Or do you want to get it out of the way before dinner?"

"You're wasted at an agency." Aang gave an appreciative sigh of relief and ran his hand across his head, "If this referral works out I have a couple clients I think are probably your speed who might be into you, they'd be a good start. I'll give you their numbers tonight. And I can put you in touch with my accountant."

"Right on. Thanks. I'll see you at five."

Once they'd hung up, Aang tapped his pencil on the pad. He opened the email from his service and dialed her number, cleared his throat. Her line only rang twice before she picked up.

"This is Katara."

She sounded younger than he'd expected and he smiled.

"Hi, this is Aang. I got your message."

"Oh! Hang on a second, would you?" There was the sound of her setting her phone down and a pause before she returned. "Sorry. I'm at work."

"I can call back if this is a bad time," he offered.

"No, I have a few minutes."

He picked up his pencil and looked down at her name scrawled in front of him.

"I usually meet prospective clients for coffee before I schedule anything," he began, "When works for you?"

She sounded unimpressed, "I'll be honest with you, if I had time for coffee we wouldn't be talking right now."

Aang's eyebrows rose in surprise and he grinned, "Okay," he said, "What do you propose?"

"Do you know the Park Hotel?"

He did know it. It was one of the most expensive hotels in Republic City. He sat back in his chair, spinning the pencil between his fingers, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes."

"Can you meet me there? Saturday?"

He pulled his phone away from his ear to check his calendar before replying.

"I'm open in the evening," he said.

"5:30?"

Impressed by her directness but preferring not to let her dictate the terms entirely he asked, "Can we do six?"

"Sure." He heard a phone ringing in the background and she gave a harassed sigh. "Can I text you at this number?"

"I prefer to text, actually."

"Good, so do I." The phone was still ringing, "Sorry, I have to go. I'll text you the room number once I have it booked, if that's all right with you."

"That would be fine," he said, jotting the time and date on the pad.

"Thanks. See you Saturday."

Before he had a chance to say anything else, she hung up. She hadn't asked him about his rates. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes narrowed slightly.

"Huh," he murmured aloud, to no one in particular.


End file.
